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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29014296">Oasis</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PigeonStation/pseuds/PigeonStation'>PigeonStation</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Little Witch Academia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/F, Game Development, Romance, Slow Burn, University AU, look just trust me</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:01:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>89,725</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29014296</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PigeonStation/pseuds/PigeonStation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Akko Kagari is an enthusiastic international student who studies video game development at the Luna Nova Institute of Technology. Inspired by a game that she played as a child, she dreams of making it as an indie game developer.</p><p>Diana Cavendish is an academic prodigy studying biomedical engineering at LNIT. She dreams of one day restoring her family’s medical technology firm to its former glory. In her spare time, she likes to make obscure and artsy games.</p><p>They were worlds apart, until their paths crossed at a local indie game expo.</p><p>A story about two people navigating love and adulthood.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Diana Cavendish/Atsuko "Akko" Kagari</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>294</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>337</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Who Cares About Chomsky, Anyway?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Are you burned out from long ass university AUs? Yes? Okay great here's another one—</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Of course,” the lecturer droned on, “the most well known relationship between formal languages is the Chomsky hierarchy, which I’m sure some of you have already heard about. Starting from the least general, we have the finite state automaton, followed by...”</p><p>
  <em> Who the hell cares about Chomsky, anyway? </em>
</p><p>Akko was bored, but it was more than that. She was <em> frustrated. </em></p><p>The Japanese girl didn’t fly halfway across the world to England, leaving behind her family and the place she called home and attending one of the most prestigious universities in the world, Luna Nova Institute of Technology, just to learn about weird abstract concepts that weren’t useful to her at all.</p><p>From the back of the lecture theatre, Akko saw that a lot of her classmates were also bored like herself, from checking social media on their phones to catching up with anime or playing games on their laptops.</p><p>But she also saw many students whose eyes followed every gesture that the lecturer would make with her hands. It was times like these that she felt out of place. Many of her fellow students came from countries all over the world for some of the best technical education England had to offer, which should have made Akko feel some sense of solidarity as an international student, if not for the fact that most of them came from expensive private schools.</p><p>The only reason Akko could even afford to attend Luna Nova Tech was because of a new scholarship scheme that the university offered to foreign students who intended to study video game development. The university had really wanted to secure a firm foothold in video game development education with their new faculty. This fact occasionally bothered Akko, but really, the excitable brunette was simply happy to be studying her dream degree in England.</p><p>This course, however, Akko wasn’t happy about. Her leg bounced impatiently. She wouldn’t have been in this course in the first place had she not goofed around in first year. After realising that her two newly made friends, Lotte and Amanda, were both taking a creative writing course, Akko’s unbridled enthusiasm had <em> demanded </em> to be placed in that class. Boring degree progression rules be <em> damned! </em></p><p>To Akko’s credit, she had a blast being with her friends in that class. It wasn’t until when she was deciding her second year courses that she realised she had <em> dun goofed, </em> as Akko would often eloquently put it. That creative writing course had replaced an introductory programming unit, which in turn had prevented her from enrolling into the introductory game design course for the first semester of her second year, something that she had been very much looking forward to. Since the introductory programming course wasn’t offered that semester, it had seemed the Programming Languages and Logic course was the easiest substitute she could take, as when Akko asked Amanda’s German flatmate, Constanze, whether she should take the systems programming course instead, the quiet girl gave her a silent yet emphatic negative with her flailing arms and shaking head.</p><p>So that was where Akko was; sitting in a <em> dull </em> lecture about <em> dull </em> concepts delivered in a <em> dull,</em> monotonous voice that could have made text-to-speech softwares jealous. Even the logic component of the course had been disappointing. She had hoped that studying logic would help her get better at being organised and exams and whatever, but instead it was just about pushing symbols around using a list of rules too long for Akko’s attention span. It had felt like maths, which was synonymous to life-threatening boredom as far as the brunette was aware.</p><p>So Akko, being the obviously productive machine that she was, decided that the most logical thing to do was to mentally check herself out of the lecture and instead work her on her next game, her <em> magnum opus. </em></p><p>She opened her modelling software and continued her unfinished work of rendering photorealistic potatoes.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>After the lecture, or as Akko liked to think of, a highly productive game development session, she walked out of the lecture theatre, pondering a more important problem than anything Chomsky had to offer. <em> Hm, </em> Akko thought deeply, scholarly. <em> What should I eat for lunch? </em></p><p>Definitely nothing with potatoes. Akko still had leftovers from dinner in their flat. Right as she started heading home, her pocket buzzed. She took her phone out and read the notification.</p><p> </p><p><b>13:02 Amanda:</b> yo wazzup. u around for lunch?</p><p> </p><p>Akko shrugged to herself.</p><p> </p><p><b>13:02 Akko:</b> sure. where do u have in mind?</p><p><b>13:03 Amanda:</b> last wednesdays. u know how it is</p><p><b>13:03 Akko:</b> not sure if I wanna get buzzed b4 my 2pm lecture tho</p><p><b>13:04 Amanda:</b> just get food and dont drink</p><p><b>13:04 Akko:</b> be there in 5 min</p><p><b>13:04 Amanda:</b> hell yeah bby</p><p> </p><p>Truth was, Akko didn’t have the appetite for pub food, partially because most meals came with thick potato chips or mashed potatoes, but she figured in the worst case scenario, she could just ask for salad to go with her meal instead.</p><p>After walking into Last Wednesday’s Hotel, she ordered her food first, receiving her food buzzer, before finding Amanda and her flatmates at their usual table at the back. She casually waved, earning a greeting from Jasminka and a nod from Constanze.</p><p>“How was your lecture?” Amanda asked.</p><p>“I nearly fell asleep,” Akko responded as she sat on a chair that Jasminka pulled out for her. “I don’t get why anyone willing takes this unit—it’s so confusing and abstract!”</p><p>The short German girl scribbled onto her notepad: <em> it’s really not. </em> Akko pouted. Unlike Constanze, she wasn’t a mechatronic engineer.</p><p>“Yeah dude that sucks,” Amanda sympathised. “I just wanna make movies but the compulsory English lit courses are just ass.”</p><p>Akko quirked her eyebrow. “By ass do you mean they suck, or because you’re checking out that Hannah girl’s ass?”</p><p>“Why did I even invite you?” Amanda sighed, in fake regret. “The first one. I’ll admit it, my line about giving her a great <em> Gatsby </em> was dumb and made no sense, but she didn’t have to take it <em> that </em> badly.”</p><p>Akko giggled—as she did every time that line was brought up—and shrugged. That kind of humour was right up her alley, but she kind of understood why getting hit on while waiting for a lecture to start wasn’t the best idea.</p><p>The brunette’s friendship with the American was founded on either or both of them doing things without much forethought.</p><p>
  <em> Throughout orientation week, newly-minted and pre-existing friend groups alike had let loose in the numerous university bars around. Akko’s flatmates hadn’t been interested in suffocating in the alcohol-fueled rowdiness of late-adolescence, but she had wanted to feel the excitement of college life, as romanticised by the trashy American movies she had been exposed to in her youth. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The night she went to her first bar, she had narrowly dodged a bullet in the form of a half-empty beer bottle flying across the crowded room. She turned and saw a very guilty looking redhead, whose eyes were slightly unfocused and rushed a slurred apology. The bartender had approached the commotion and angrily asked for the culprit. As no one had come forward, he suspiciously eyed the very obviously inebriated redhead. There was a tense silence in which the girl begged Akko wordlessly through her bright green eyes, perhaps to not damn her, or to do something to help her, the brunette did not know. The green eyes faltered in defeat and their owner parted her lips to speak— </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “It was me!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> All eyes were on the out of place Japanese girl who clearly didn’t have any alcohol in her. The bartender had a disbelieving look, as did the redhead. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Really?” he said, with folded arms, as if daring her to give an affirmation. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Y-yes, it was definitely me. Sorry!” Reverting to her cultural conditioning, the Japanese girl bowed deeply. The bartender was taken off guard, but he demanded that she leave regardless, to which Akko nervously and awkwardly obliged. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> After she had left, the sounds of drunken youth resumed as if the tense moment had never existed. Her only proof was when the redhead from the bar ran out after her, matching her pace after having caught up. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Hey, thanks,” the redhead spoke with an American accent that Akko hadn’t noticed earlier, decorated with the scent of alcohol. “Why did you do that?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Akko answered with a shrug. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Why did you throw the bottle?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The American shrugged. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m Amanda, by the way.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> While Akko had left the bar that night without having tasted alcohol, she had left with a friend instead. </em>
</p><p>“Worst part is,” Amanda continued, “I found out recently that she actually does a media arts degree too, so I kinda fucked up big time.”</p><p>The redhead was set on working in the film industry, although she had not yet decided whether she wanted to work in production or as an actor.</p><p>“You know you can just apologise, right?” Jasminka suggested in her kind voice. The Russian girl was really one of a kind. Akko thought the purple-haired girl had the motherly quality of a kind <em> babushka. </em> She even slightly looked the part too, although Akko didn’t mean this in a bad way about her figure at all. Jasminka loved eating—as evident by the large empty plate in front of her—and sharing, and her passion extended beyond just a hobby, as she studied a science degree in biotechnology, with which she hoped would lead into a career in the food industry.</p><p>“I mean I would,” Amanda responded as her food buzzer went off. She got up from her chair. “But she’s made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want anything to do with me, so why bother?”</p><p>The redheaded American left to get her food. When she returned, she also carried a glass of beer.</p><p>“Don’t you have another couple of lectures soon?” Akko asked.</p><p>“Yeah, so?” Amanda responded as she took a large swig, as if making some sort of an infallible point. “I gotta enjoy the benefits of a lower legal drinking age while I still can.”</p><p>“Don’t tell me that’s why you decided to study here.”</p><p>Amanda gave the brunette a wink which earned her an eye-roll. Akko’s amusement was given away by a quirk of her lips. Shortly after, Akko received her food and ate in casual conversation with her friends.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>After Akko’s classes for the day had finished, she returned to her flat. It was a small unit, but otherwise surprisingly cosy for the rent that she was paying. After all, the unit was still more spacious than the apartment the Kagari family had in Kyoto, with a more modern kitchen and a bathroom for each of the three rooms. Akko chalked up the low rent to being farther from Luna Nova than many of the other options, and being next to a busy road. She didn’t really mind.</p><p>Her flatmates were already home. Lotte was busy in the kitchen while Sucy seemed to be studying in the living room.</p><p>“Oh hey Akko,” Lotte greeted after seeing Akko walk through the front door and taking off her shoes.  “I’m making some cinnamon buns, would you like some?”</p><p>Akko’s eyes perked up. “Really? I love you so much Lotte!”</p><p>“Your love is cheap,” Sucy deadpanned, without looking up from her notebook.</p><p>“Well, I have a lot to give,” the brunette responded as she detached herself from a much relieved Lotte. “You can have some of me too if you like!”</p><p>Sucy made a gagging noise as she gave the Japanese girl a look of revulsion, earning a bemused expression from Akko. The Filipino girl ignored her and continued reading her notebook.</p><p>“Hey Suce,” Akko began as she unceremoniously crashed onto the couch, “don’t you usually study in your room?”</p><p>“I’d give almost anything to do that,” Sucy responded, “but I’m currently running an experiment in there, and the fumes probably aren’t good for you over a prolonged period of time.”</p><p>Akko had always wondered how the chemical engineer could say the most alarming things in the least emotive intonation. It was clear to the brunette that if she reported Sucy’s activities to the property manager, it wouldn’t be them telling Sucy to leave. It would be the police. And then Akko would need to master the forbidden art of sleeping with one eye open. Regardless, she wouldn’t do that to her friend. Plus, Lotte and herself would probably be kicked out for enabling Sucy. Whenever Akko would ask, the purple-haired girl would boredly state that her interest in exotic chemical synthesis was purely out of personal interest. Akko didn’t doubt her, because somehow, that idea <em> fitted </em> Sucy.</p><p>The Japanese girl had been the last person to arrive at the flat back in first year. Because of course, out of the trio, Akko is the most likely candidate to somehow accidentally rock up at the wrong airport, then on the wrong airplane. No one was quite sure how Akko bypassed the security, but after half an hour of scary interrogation—although if anyone had asked the security staff, they would recall the suppressed memory of hearing an awful wailing resonating across the airport grounds about how she was going to be miss the first day of class and be expelled immediately from the “best university in the world.”</p><p>When Akko had finally arrived at their flat, after having taken the wrong bus from the airport of course, she had introduced herself with a bow towards the orange and purple-haired girls. Lotte had introduced herself cordially as a student of audio engineering. She explained that sound and music had always been something of a fascination to her. The Finnish girl also asked whether Akko had heard of Nightfall, and was strangely disappointed when she received a negative.</p><p>Sucy, however, barely introduced herself. She stated nonchalantly that her room was not to be entered, at which moment Akko had shivered for some reason. Maybe it was the late wintry breeze or something. Akko hadn’t even found out what she was studying until halfway into the first semester, when she caught a glimpse of Sucy in the brutalist chemical engineering building. The brunette thought Sucy was born to work in that building.</p><p>Akko pulled out her phone and scrolled through social media. Sucy was initially glad that the brunette shifted her attention from talking to reading, but that gladness was cracked like a wine glass by the barely restrained giggling, then completely shattered into a thousand pieces by the obnoxious, unceasing laughter that streamed out of Akko as she browsed through meme after meme.</p><p>“Akko,” Sucy began menacingly. “If you’re gonna stay out here, then be quiet. Otherwise, go to your room.”</p><p>Akko, in her ever distracted brain, somehow parsed the statement, but not immediately its meaning. <em> What Sucy said, </em> Akko thought, <em> is just (A implies B) or not-A. But her menacing presence actually made it sound like not-((A implies B) or not-A) implies C, where C is something really bad happening to me. Wow, I actually learnt something fro— </em>Then, it dawned on her.</p><p>
  <em> Oh. </em>
</p><p>The brunette apologised awkwardly, and stood up moved towards her room.</p><p>“Here, Akko,” Lotte appeared out of the kitchen and held out a plate for Akko. “Have a good evening!”</p><p>Akko gratefully accepted Lotte’s charity, and exclaimed “Wow these buns look and smell amazing, Lotte! I’ll make something for us all tomorrow night, I promise.”</p><p>Lotte smiled and approached Sucy with another plate.</p><p>As she entered her room, Akko charged her laptop, set the plate of a couple of cinnamon buns on her desk and dropped her bag down somewhere. <em> Somewhere, </em> because she didn’t know, because she didn’t see nor care. She fell onto her unmade bed in a muffled thump and closed her eyes. Akko wondered whether she should do her tutorial problems for her classes. Or better yet, work on assignment from— <em> nah, </em> Akko thought. <em> Why waste a perfectly good evening? </em></p><p>Akko opened her eyes, and was greeted by familiar red eyes. <em> Shiny Chariot. </em> In her dazzling white witch costume. In her almost angelic pose, as if performing a spell that would fill her heart with warmth and belief. <em> A Believing Heart Is Your Magic. </em> Shiny Chariot’s grand catchphrase had etched itself into Akko’s mind over a dozen years ago. She took her Alcor plushy, based on Chariot’s familiar, and hugged it against her chest.</p><p>She was reminded of all the times she would narrowly escape her demise in Arcturus Forest, using her flying magic to stay ahead of the fearsome cockatrice. The times she would liberate the oppressed fairies from their evil magical overlords with insatiable hunger for power. The times she would shout “I believe in my believing heart!” and defeat the noir missile with the Shiny Arc.</p><p>Akko was reminded of her childhood days, when she would have endless fun playing The Legend of Arcturus on her console as otousan and okaasan watched. It was a joy that six-year-old Akko had never experienced before. It was undoubtedly a formative part of Atsuko Kagari.</p><p>She was no short of being <em> obsessed </em> with the video game. It had shown her that a world in which anything was possible. A world that she could change. A world that six-year-old Akko dreamt about every night, and would have given anything to be a part of. Her parents loved seeing their little girl in so much joy, that every year they would buy something for Akko that was related to Shiny Chariot, from the Alcor plushy when she was eight, to an artbook when she was twelve. As she grew older, her love for The Legend of Arcturus had only matured. Her passion for the game extended to a passion for video game development. She realised early on that she wanted to become a game developer.</p><p>But like most things in life, things were never perfect. For her tenth birthday, otousan and okaasan had surprised Akko with what they thought would have made their daughter’s entire year. Initially, it had seemed that they succeeded, as Akko had jumped up and down as she held the sequel to The Legend of Arcturus to her chest. But as Akko started playing, she felt a strange absence of <em> magic. </em> Of course, the graphics were significantly improved, the gameplay felt smoother and more responsive, the variety of monsters and abilities were more than double the original game.</p><p>But it was soulless. It was no longer about a believing heart. Shiny Chariot had been robbed of her charm, and became a bundle of pixels that Akko could not relate to. The set pieces had deprived Akko of her agency, and in extension, the agency of the Chariot that Akko knew in her mind. This imposter had tarnished her joy with the original. And so Akko gradually became more and more upset as she played the game. And after three days she had finished the game, but was only left with a feeling of emptiness and bitter disappointment.</p><p>Akko’s parents were disheartened with her reaction, and had sold the game, as they could see that its physical presence on their shelf was a stain in Akko’s mind. But their little girl didn’t blame them. A week after her birthday, she hugged both otousan and okaasan, telling them that it wasn’t their fault, and that she loved them and thanked them for having bought the game regardless.</p><p>Since then, there had been another The Legend of Arcturus game, released the year that Akko turned thirteen. But Akko didn’t bother. She had even explicitly asked her parents not to buy that game for her. She didn’t want her love for the original blemished by yet another zombified version of the game. And from what she had read from The Legend of Arcturus fans online, they made the right decision. She still loved the original game regardless, and replayed them countlessly.</p><p>It was only years later, after having learnt to use the internet properly, that she had found out the reason why the sequels were butchered. The Legend of Arcturus was a victim of its own success. The game had been popular with players across the world. The anonymous indie creator of the original game, who went by the pseudonym <em> Chariot, </em> had been surprised by the success of their game. Initially, to give something back to the fans, they designed some merchandise for the game, including posters and Alcor plushies.</p><p>But that had not been enough: there was an obvious demand for a sequel. Capitalising on the opportunity, a major Japanese publishing giant, Dream Fuel Studios, had offered Chariot the lucrative opportunity to work with a large team of specialists and developers to deliver a bigger, better sequel. And as a budding indie developer, who was Chariot to refuse? A chance to fulfil her fans as well as to elevate her career as a game developer is an opportunity that most could only dream of.</p><p>However, Chariot had become overwhelmed with the expectation of making a worthy sequel, and exhausted from having to fight for control over creative vision with the publisher, they eventually quit and disappeared into thin air. This had left the publisher full control over the direction of the sequels, leading to a sacrilege in Akko’s mind.</p><p>
  <em> Triple-A. </em>
</p><p>A word that Akko had learnt to <em> hate. </em></p><p>She didn’t blame Chariot at all, as Akko also had the desire to become a game developer, and could empathise with them. More than that, she loved Chariot for having played an essential part in making Akko the person she was.</p><p>No, she blamed the rampant corporatism and commercialisation of the video games industry. She blamed the gatekeeping of giant publishers that held funding and production as carrots on sticks to subdue passionate developers as nothing but machines that turned a profit. Machines that were used until their bolts rusted and their cogs too broken to turn, only to be discarded and replaced by another.</p><p>So just as convicted as Akko was in becoming a game developer, she added an important prefix to her dream title.</p><p>She wanted to become an <em> indie </em> game developer.</p><p>And it was as clear as day to Akko that she couldn’t do it in Japan.</p><p>This was the real reason that Akko had brought a Shiny Chariot poster with her to England, sticking to the wall adjacent to her bed.</p><p>Of course, it was there because she loved The Legend of Arcturus.</p><p>But more importantly, it was a <em> reminder. </em> A motivation for herself. A deeply personal reason for why she was at an expensive university halfway across the world that her family could barely afford, surrounded by students seemingly outside of her league, taking classes that she could barely keep up with.</p><p>All for a dream to become a creator of games that would bring joy and inspiration to people she would never meet. All for a chance to right a wrong in a way that she could gain an emotional closure. To prove to the unfair world that you can make the games you want without conceding an irreplaceable part of yourself and becoming devoured by the vultures.</p><p>So feeling motivated once again, Akko got up from her bed and walked to her desk and sat down and…</p><p>… didn’t do any work.</p><p>Akko took a large, absolutely <em> undignified </em> bite of one of Lotte’s buns and <em> moaned. </em></p><p>Crumbs dropped onto the floor as she seemed to not understand the sophisticated purpose of a plate, and remarked to herself, <em> “Oh god </em> I have to find out how she makes these.”</p><p>She switched on her laptop and began browsing YouTube. She was probably subscribed to thousands of channels by now, so browsing her subscriptions feed was a futile endeavour. So she simply clicked on her favourite channel of the month, Daily Dose of Cats, and had a jolly good time watching cats being cats.</p><p>After that, she frequented her favourite indie games forum. It didn’t seem like much had happened since the last time she visited the forum, which wasn’t actually very long since she got bored during her formal languages lecture and skimmed the newest posts just to stay awake—an imperative that Akko had to uphold with her life, as the last time she fell asleep during a lecture, she had been woken up rudely by the laughter of her fellow classmates and lecturer when she snored. It had been embarrassing enough as it was, but to make matters worse, a (thankfully blurry) photo of her sleeping had made it onto the Facebook page called People Sleeping at LNIT. Amanda had teased her about tagging her in the comments, but she knew the redhead better than that. Amanda would never do anything to hurt Akko, or any of her friends.</p><p>Some of the threads were a little brain-dead, like the one Akko just scrolled past titled “How do I make a game?” She was tempted to hit them with the classic letmegooglethat.com, but Akko was sure someone had beaten her to it already. “What is the best 2D-engine for platformers?” That sounded like it might be interesting, but no replies yet. There’s one about—</p><p>Wait a minute.</p><p>Hold up.</p><p>
  <em> … LNIT…  </em>
</p><p>Akko could swear she saw a thread that had “LNIT” in the title, but she was scrolling too fast, so she couldn’t tell whether it was actually there or if she was going crazy. Akko scrolled back to the top and started skimming again.</p><p>After a couple of minutes, still nothing. <em> Ah well, </em> Akko thought, <em> probably just me going crazy— </em> wait, why didn’t she just check with the find command? <em> Stupid! </em></p><p>Akko pressed control and F keys, typed in “LNIT” and…</p><p>… a hit. A thread with the title “Indie Game Expo at LNIT”.</p><p>Her heartbeat quickened. She impatiently clicked on the link, but not before missing a couple of times and accidentally clicking on a neighbouring thread about how indie games led to their marriage. No, Akko didn’t care about that right now—but another time perhaps. The opening post—apparently from an admin—stated:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Greetings to all indie developers and lovers, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Recently, our application to the Luna Nova Institute of Technology (LNIT) for hosting the annual community expo had been approved. This is the first year that this event will take place at LNIT, so we’re very excited for indie developers and gamers to travel to Blytonbury from far and wide to showcase and play indie games that you might otherwise miss! </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Come hangout the week after the next. We have the venue booked for 3 days. Developers looking to schedule in, please click the link below. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> This is it, </em> Akko thought, <em> an opportunity for real exposure! </em> Her barely contained excitement was made obvious by the fact that her second cinnamon bun had been untouched for the last couple of minutes as she read and re-read the post.</p><p>It wasn’t that Akko couldn’t find places to upload her games, but rather no one seemed to play them. But of course that wasn’t the budding developer’s fault, since how the hell was a user supposed to find her game among a list of thousands? They simply couldn’t.</p><p>But with an expo, Akko was guaranteed that at least some people would play her game, and if she got lucky, a critic might love it so much that they give it a highly positive review that will attract thousands of players.</p><p>Her chances were looking even better, considering that she was nearly finished with her magnum opus.</p><p>So, excited by the endless possibilities that the expo seemed to provide, Akko clicked the link.</p><p>After she had lodged her application for the expo, Akko resumed her mission of digitally modelling potatoes with a renewed vigour.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Medium of Experiences</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Diana Cavendish was in her element.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she wasn’t in her element, she was considered the best in her cohort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when she was, she became a being of pure focus, as if possessed by a ghost that would not relent until it achieved what it had set out to do. She became the best in her </span>
  <em>
    <span>generation.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Therefore, the mid-semester exam in front of her was nothing but child’s play. The question in front of her was on how and why bioactive ceramics can be effectively utilised as bone-graft substitutes. It might as well have asked her what her middle name was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The exam room was tense, with a dead silence in which the blonde could hear breaths that she didn’t draw herself, tapping from the bored exam invigilators who had nothing to do but to catch up with social media, the scratching of pens onto paper from across the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana was slightly irritated by how her desk wobbled with every stroke of her vigorous writing, but—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not anymore. She smiled to herself in satisfaction. Diana set her pen down on her table and looked at the clock: she had only used half of the time given. She briefly glanced around the room, seeing that many of her peers were still writing frantically, while others sat on their chairs with a confused or disheartened look, holding pens that did not make contact with paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could leave now, but of course, as the diligent Cavendish she was, she didn’t. She spent the next half hour proofreading her responses over and over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that she had found any errors, of course. That would have been a surprise. Whenever her mind wasn’t plagued with worry over a future that she needed a foothold in, or yearning for a past that she so desperately wished she could reach, mistakes in her thoughts and actions were nonexistent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The timer eventually counted to zero, prompting the invigilators to collect the papers. The students conversed with one another about the exam. Some thought that they did badly, others were cautiously optimistic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But no one paid Diana any attention as she left without a word. She didn’t particularly feel the need to discuss anything with any of her classmates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was used to this, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The exam had finished late afternoon, so Diana figured she might as well visit one of the university cafes around for an early dinner. She took out her phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>17:11 Diana:</b>
  <span> Hi Barbara, I’m about to grab something to eat on campus. Does Hannah or yourself want me to bring back anything?</span>
</p><p>
  <b>17:12 Barbara:</b>
  <span> nah, Aves invited Han and I to dinner with her flatmates. Wanna come?</span>
</p><p>
  <b>17:12 Diana:</b>
  <span> Thanks for the invite, but I think I’d rather stay in tonight. Have fun at Avery’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>17:13 Barbara:</b>
  <span> I’d ask you how you went in your exam, but there’s really no point :)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rather than going for the cafes around the engineering campus, she walked towards the business school instead, which unsurprisingly was a part of the university that received more funding than they had known what to do with, and so they splurged and in turn had the best cafes on campus. Along with other enviable amenities, such as nicer bathrooms and more modern lecture theatres. Even the buildings themselves were newer and looked prettier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luna Nova Tech was a university that, despite technically being a public research university with one and a half centuries of history, operated as though it were a private institution with incentives towards commerce and expansion. The large international student intakes every year was a proof of that. Diana found the subject of tertiary education and university decisions deeply fascinating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One surprising decision made a decade ago by the university was to break away from the traditional UK academic calendar, and instead move to a semesterly system where the long yearly break was over the winter holidays, and a six week break over the July-August period. It had been a highly controversial proposal, with many newspaper outlets outraged at the perceived “erosion of not just British education, but also of traditional British culture.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The reason hadn’t been to attack the “minds of the young” as the pundits had claimed. In reality, it had been much simpler: Luna Nova wanted to synchronise with the academic years of many other universities across the world to encourage international exchange programs, as well as to make vacation internship and research programs less of a headache to schedule. In a surprising move by a public institution of </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> kind, the university hadn’t capitulated to the media pressure, and doubled down on the move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aunt Daryl often made disparaging remarks after finding out that Diana had applied for Luna Nova Tech, some of her classics included “Can you believe it? Luna Nova has gone to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>dogs!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> and “Our little prodigy is getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>less British</span>
  </em>
  <span> by the minute!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the more reason for why Diana had been set on studying here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But of course, there had been a more important reason for why she had chosen Luna Nova. A more personal one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was to feel closer to her mother. A ghost that Diana had been chasing ever since she had left her life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana walked through the doors of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>least</span>
  </em>
  <span> popular business school cafe. She wanted tranquility, and she would not get it in the flashiest cafe on campus. Not that this cafe was bad, but it wasn’t the most convenient nor attractive venue for groups of friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After ordering a sandwich and the tea of the day the cafe offered, Diana took a seat near the back, adjacent to a window overlooking some wing of the business school.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unlike most people who sat alone at cafes, Diana didn’t pull out her phone to check social media. She had no such thing. She would check her emails, but Diana figured that after an exam, she might as well treat herself with a little break from her usual highly streamlined routine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A waitress set her sandwich and tea down with a smile. Diana returned her politeness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sandwich was fine; she didn’t exactly fuss over what she ate on a daily basis as long as she wasn’t going to get sick—or feel sick, in the case of greasy foods. Diana took a sip of her tea and approved, as she appreciated the bitter flavour. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I should ask for the brand.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana had only started frequenting this particular cafe since second year. She was in her third year now. Unfortunately, referring to the Cavendish as a prodigy wasn’t unique to Daryl, albeit others did so in a less belittling tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana had spent her secondary education years in an upper class girls private school, where her classmates were daughters of politicians, important figures and others from well established families. The Cavendish was no different. Not only was her heritage one with a long line of respected healers, her great grandmother, Beatrix, had started one the world’s oldest medical technology companies, Cavendish Life Technologies. Her intentions had been noble, with little concerns in the way of profit maximisation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cavendish LIfe had been successful in developing medical technologies that not only improved the wellbeing of their users, but also was affordable, something that had not been a priority in the minds of inventors at the time. This had made Cavendish a household name for decades, earning the admiration and respect of the common folk whose lives or the lives of their loved ones had seen improvement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as competitors grew, by those who saw opportunities for profit rather than for the greater good of their fellow people, the landscape shifted. Life saving technologies had been patented and sold to the highest bidder. Inventions were no longer eagerly shared among the medical community, but rather held onto along with the power that came with exclusivity. The Cavendish family had been good medical inventors and researchers, but helping humanity was an endeavour that a single family could not sustain. And so over time, the presence Cavendish Life Technologies had in the medical domain had dissipated into a mere shadow of its former glory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bernadette worked tirelessly to restore the family business to what it had been, a bastion of hope for those who risked their livelihoods and happiness for reasons that they had no say in. The woman worked even as she was brought onto her deathbed. Diana had been only eleven when her mother had passed away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why was it that whenever Diana wasn’t doing work, her thoughts always returned to either her mother or her future? This far in, she supposed that she might as well continue with her brooding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana was considered a prodigy. A rising star. She had skipped an entire year of her secondary education because she had pushed herself far beyond where a girl her age should be. She thrusted herself into advanced texts with nothing but an iron will. She would not accept any less than mastery, something that had cost her countless nights of frustrated tears, opportunities to make friends, and any sense of joy that an adolescent girl deserved. But it had given her a chance to move beyond just wallowing in her loss. It had given her a sense of purpose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana graduated high school at the age of seventeen. She came to Luna Nova to study biomedical engineering. She would complete her bachelor’s degree that year, and her master’s degree the next. She would find her foothold at the forefront of biomedical research, and complete a PhD in some highly regarded university.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she would take over Cavendish Life Technologies as the chief executive officer from aunt Daryl, in accordance with her mother’s will. Daryl didn’t really have any interest in running a company. In the years where Daryl had taken over, her major contributions had been making questionable hiring decisions and nothing else, as she delegated all tasks to her subordinates. Her aunt had always really only cared about being a socialite, but out of respect for her sister, she had agreed to fulfil the role left behind by Bernadette until Diana completed her education.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And while Daryl hadn’t dared making any outrageous decisions for the family business, it was also accurate to say that she was running it to the ground by the attrition that came with stagnation. Diana could have taken over the company much earlier, but she wouldn’t do so until had the expertise to restore the company. And what was a few more years at this point?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana sighed. Even when she wasn’t doing any work, she was thinking about things related to it. It seemed that only </span>
  <em>
    <span>one thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the world could truly take her mind off of the constant alternation between working and melancholic brooding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps she could find time for it later tonight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After having decided that she had enough time brooding and people watching from the cafe, she gracefully rose from her hair, thanked the waitress and left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For reasons unknown to Diana, she didn’t take the chance to ask the waitress about the tea.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diana stretched her back. She had been sitting at her desk for a few hours, studying ahead for her senior biomaterials course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, she just had the mid-semester exam earlier today, which she had effortlessly aced. But there was no harm in being prepared, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Spread out in front of her was the biomaterials textbook for which the course was based on, a notebook filled with study notes and a few different coloured pens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unlike the vast majority of the students in her courses, Diana avoided taking out her laptop during a lecture if she could help it, and took notes with pen and paper. Diana simply felt that typing notes with a laptop trivialised the act of learning into something mechanical and unmeaningful. Having a bright screen glaring at her eyes while trying to focus on the lecture was irritating. And typing notes with a laptop only resulted in a lazy and worse copy of the lecture slides, at which point she might as well consult the slides instead of her notes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But with the tactility of pen and paper, she could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> what she was writing. It was better ingrained into her memory that way. And while she wrote her notes, she could simultaneously reflect and absorb the knowledge that was bestowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the end of each week, she would then summarise the lecture notes she had taken down onto a separate notebook. The said notebook would become her final revision notes after the lectures finish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To anyone else, it would seem like a terribly redundant habit for someone with an absurd amount of time on her hands. After all, the average student simply reads through lecture slides as revision. But Diana wasn’t like that. She didn’t have more time than most students, but rather, she had unmatched organisational skills to the point of compulsion. And unlike the average student, Diana had topped most of her courses, never once received a mark less than ninety.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Year after year, she would earn awards and scholarships.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>None of which she needed, especially not for the monetary value, since she was still wealthy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The awards meant nothing to her, as validation was not her reason for applying herself. But she accepted them anyway, since she figured that they would come in handy for when she applies for a graduate program.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana never went out of the way to apply for a scholarship, however. She would only be taking it from someone who needed it more than she did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After witnessing the Cavendish’s efficacy in winning every academic award possible, Hannah stopped calling her study regime </span>
  <em>
    <span>archaic.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Initially, Diana’s friendship with her flatmates had been rather one-sided, and more akin to fangirls fawning over their favourite celebrity.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Her jaw dropped as she recognised the blonde hair with tea-green streaks that fell in curls around a pale, elegant complexion that wore a gentle, cordial smile.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hello,” Diana began, “you must be the new residents of this flat, I presume. My name is—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Diana Cavendish!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana’s hand rose to proffer a handshake, but had frozen in midair after hearing the raven-haired girl’s squeal. Her expression faltered, not quite knowing the correct response to the other girl’s outburst.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At that moment, another girl with auburn hair walked through the door. “Barbara can you not? Did a new Nightfall volume come out or—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, Hannah, look!” The girl named Barbara gestured wildly in Diana’s general direction. “It’s Diana Cavendish!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Diana… Caven—” Something clicked in Hannah’s brain. “Cavendish? As in ‘Cavendish Life Technologies’ Cavendish?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The blonde retracted her hand awkwardly. “Y-yes, my that is our family business.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hannah’s eyes widened. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you! My grandma uses your company’s sleep apnea machine. She’s been using it for half her life now, but she always declines every time we offer to buy her a newer model. Your company really changed her life.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana was overwhelmed. She had never been one for attention, but the intense looks on the two girls in front of her made her discomfort skyrocket to a whole new level. “I-I’m glad to hear that.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She lied.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“A-are you going to be our flatmate?” Barbara asked.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana’s previous flatmates were quiet and mostly kept to themselves. She had been comfortable in that arrangement, but one girl had graduated, while the other struggled with her first year at Luna Nova, so she had decided to transfer to a different degree in a different university.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The blonde really wished they had stayed with her for another year, despite barely remembering their names and faces.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes, I believe so—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The two girls squealed. Diana cringed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>From that long afternoon from the previous year, Diana had learnt that both girls studied art degrees in English literature. Barbara intended to go into academia, while Hannah wanted to get into film production. Luna Nova was primarily a technology school, so their arts faculty was a smaller part of the university.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the blonde had asked her flatmates why they had chosen Luna Nova, they responded simply that it had been their local university. They didn’t really have to relocate to a flat, but they told her that they were inseparable since the age of six, and they intended to stay that way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Hannah and Barbara’s insistence at spending time with the Cavendish had been annoying at first, Diana eventually came to enjoy their company. Their openness to reach out and spend time with Diana was something that she had not been used to. It had felt awkward at first, but their friendship made her feel a little less lonely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it was depressing to acknowledge the important fact that Diana hadn’t made any proper friends up until her friendship with her flatmates, but having friends to ask her whether she was hungry or needed something or wanted to check out the new Marvel movie was something that Diana never knew she would appreciate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To the credit of her flatmates, they had also matured from fangirls to genuine friends who respected Diana as a human being.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana really couldn’t express her gratefulness for what her friends had brought to her life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After making herself some tea, Diana returned to her desk, looking to resume her studious efforts. But as she picked up her pen, her phone rang.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana looked at the caller and </span>
  <em>
    <span>groaned.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She hesitated for another moment, debating to herself the merits of simply declining the call, before she capitulated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aunt Daryl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Niece Diana,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Daryl responded with a mocking tone. “See? That doesn’t feel very nice, does it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana’s free hand subconsciously moved to pinch the bridge of her nose. “If antagonising me is all you’re here for, then I’m sorry to say that you’re going to need to find someone else to entertain yourself with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come now, Diana. There is no need for hostility.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana didn’t even bother to respond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Daryl sighed after an awkward pause. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>may</span>
  </em>
  <span> have made some mistakes in the past. But I am a refined woman who owns them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana’s oncoming headache is going to be an earth-shattering one. She could feel it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Aunt Daryl,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana began, barely holding her intonation even, “you tried to sabotage my admission into Luna Nova by calling the </span>
  <em>
    <span>chancellor.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You’re lucky that we’re even </span>
  <em>
    <span>remotely</span>
  </em>
  <span> on speaking terms.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” Daryl’s eye-roll could be felt through the call. “That was nearly two years ago. Ancient history. Plus, I was only looking out for you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was not your decision to make,” Diana couldn’t keep the venom out of her voice. “You </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> how important this was to me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span> this was important to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re being too sentimental,” Daryl dismissed. “Being too emotional has no place in being a successful CEO.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing that you would know about,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana barely held back. “If your intention was to ruin my night then you’ve accomplished it. Was there anything else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No it wasn’t,” Daryl spoke, more gently than Diana had heard in a long time. “I wanted to ask how you were.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a strange sincerity that Diana felt bothered by. “Fine. Although I don’t recall you ever caring enough to ask before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Believe it or not, I do care, Diana. I know we haven’t gotten along in the past—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Daryl ignored her. “But, you are Bernadette’s daughter. My niece. I do care about you. So really, how </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana didn’t feel particularly moved by her aunt’s declaration. But as painful as it was to admit to herself, she knew that Daryl did have her interests at heart, in some strange, twisted sense of familial </span>
  <em>
    <span>love.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Even that word didn’t quite sit right in her mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana sighed. “I have been fine. Good, actually. Things are going well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her aunt hummed. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got to go. I have work to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you don’t,” Daryl chuckled knowingly. “You really haven’t changed, have you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye, aunt Daryl.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I’ll call you tomorrow, darling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana ended the call with a tap harder than she intended. Her aunt really enjoyed getting on her nerves, even in an endeavour as simple as asking her how she was doing. Diana hadn’t forgiven Daryl for her actions in the past.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Had chancellor Holbrooke not been as understanding as she was by contacting Diana after Daryl’s call as her </span>
  <em>
    <span>legal guardian,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana wasn’t sure if she would be here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aunt Daryl had a strange way of showing her love, it seemed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana wasn’t lying when she told Daryl that her night was ruined. She was thrown off her element by a phone call from the one person she least expected. The one person she least wanted to talk to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was no longer in the mindset to get any work done. Diana subconsciously stared at her tea as she vented her frustrations internally at an imaginary Daryl. But even the Daryl in her mind quipped with comebacks that just made her feel even more annoyed and exhausted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time she raised the tea to her lips, it had gone cold. She poured the stale tea into her sink and made more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was really only one thing that could take Diana’s mind to a place of peace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She switched on her laptop, launched her Unity editor and loaded up her most recent project.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana moved around the environment in the game window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She knew what she wanted to go for, and the feelings were there. But it was incomplete. The execution needed refinement. Her assets needed to be more… sombre. Impersonal. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alien.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But Diana didn’t quite have the assets she needed at the moment. She could tend to that later. She figured that as long as she had the structure of the scenes down in a way that conveyed the theme effectively, the rest of the work would simply be a matter of finding the right assets with aesthetics that complemented the scene.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Diana most definitely wanted to lose herself in working on the game tonight. To experiment with different ideas, playtest the scenes to </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> how they worked, perpetuate the cycle between creation and experimentation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most people didn’t think Diana had a single creative bone in her body, and she could kind of see how they would arrive at that conclusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But just like anyone else, Diana needed a way to express herself. She wasn’t much of a conversationalist, so she couldn’t really express the things she felt by talking to someone else. For some time, she kept up with a journal, but there was a lack of fulfilment there. A lack of </span>
  <em>
    <span>catharsis.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t much of a writer. Whenever she tried writing, she would struggle with finding the words that truly conveyed what she felt. Diana wasn’t a bad visual artist; she had some success oil painting in her adolescence. But painting was limited in a way that Diana could not compromise with: visual art is </span>
  <em>
    <span>static.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Emotions, generally, are most definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> static.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Emotions change and blend into one another. They are elusive and confusing. Their shape is indeterminate. Dynamic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Diana knew only of one medium that seemed to be capable of capturing and invoking feelings in a way that she rarely ever felt from other forms of expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that was the medium of video games. The medium of </span>
  <em>
    <span>experiences.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana had first felt the way video games could make her feel when she was six.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Running their family business had meant that her mother was sometimes too busy to come home to Diana. Her mother would miss things.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And that particular day, the thing that her mother missed was her birthday celebration in the Cavendish Manor. Diana’s aunt and cousins had started to look bored, sitting at the long dining table. As per Diana’s request, the housekeepers were invited too, also sitting down looking around awkwardly as they tried their best not to look bored.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It had been twenty minutes since Diana’s birthday meal should have started. The dishes served meticulously by the chef sat untouched and were no longer fresh and hot. Diana didn’t want it to start without her mother.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was her birthday! It was her special day of the year. And everyone was here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And it had been a disappointment.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Because the most important person in Diana’s life wasn’t.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And when Daryl made a remark that they should just start, little Diana couldn’t hold it in anymore and ran.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She ran and ran. Through the empty halls of the Manor. Up the stairs that seemed like boulders to her short legs. Into her room.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She threw herself onto her bed and the dam broke.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana cried into her pillow.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At some point, the little girl must have fallen asleep, because when she opened her eyes again, her mother was there, kneeling by her bed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re late,” Diana said in her cute, high pitched voice. She was pouting, resolved to be mad at her mother for missing the most important celebration of the year. To Bernadette, it was adorable, and she had etched the image into her mind, determined to remember it for the rest of her life.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry, my darling,” her mother apologised. “Something came up at work. I had no choice—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bernadette saw that her daughter’s pout deepened, and did all she could to keep a straight face, lest she wound her little girl’s pride. “No, you’re right, Diana. I should have come back sooner. Oh what can I ever do to make it up to my pretty little girl?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The older Cavendish pretended to be in deep thought. Diana’s lips twitched as she did her best to suppress her smile.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hm, what if I could give her a birthday present?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was then that Diana realised her mother was holding something behind her back. Her interest was piqued. “Mum, what’s that?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What’s what, dear?” Bernadette smiled coyly as she turned so Diana couldn’t peek behind her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But Diana was smart. She launched herself at her mother, who for a brief second wore a look of horror as her reflexes reacted and caught her daughter just in time, resulting in a tight embrace.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Diana!” her mother shrieked. “Don’t scare me like that again, please.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The little girl dipped her head in guilt. “Sorry, mum.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s fine, my darling.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana peeked behind her mother’s back and her eyes widened. “M-mum! It’s a—a—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“A game,” her mother finished for her, looking at her excited girl with fondness. With love.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>the</span>
  </em>
  <span> game. The game had made her feel wonder, excitement, terror, joy, and even companionship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She recalled playing the game with her mother whenever she was not busy. And when she was busy, little Diana would play the game herself. It had kept her from feeling loneliness when the other kids at school thought she was weird.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hadn’t played that game for nearly a decade. Diana’s memories of that game had been soured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But while her taste for gaming had changed, her love for gaming did not. To Diana, video games were art. Over the years, she had been drawn to more unconventional games. Games that weren’t about slaying monsters, rescuing princesses or acquiring points. But rather, to games that elicited emotions. Games that gave Diana personal, intimate experiences that made them feel like they were her own, that what she got out of those games were unique only to herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when she realised that what she wanted to express could be done in such games, she taught herself how to make those. To construct impossible experiences that captured the elusiveness of her emotions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she was lost in her own world of transcribing the themes she wanted to convey into a digital landscape, she heard her door open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana jumped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry Diana,” Hannah’s sincerity was contradicted by her smirk. “I tried knocking a couple of times but you didn’t respond.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s alright,” Diana gathered herself as she turned herself around on the chair. “I was just really focused.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You gotta be more careful, you know,” Hannah teased, “maybe next time I’ll walk in on you enjoying yourself too much—”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hannah!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Your bed is kinda squeaky, is all I’m saying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there anything I can help you with?” Diana did her best to melt Hannah’s shit-eating grin with a glare, but her flushed cheeks instead gave the auburn-haired girl even more satisfaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but there’s something that I can help </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana blinked. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannah reached into her jean pocket and pulled out a folded paper. She unfolded it and handed the paper to Diana. The blonde wasn’t sure why she took notice of the fact that the paper was warm. Diana quickly skimmed the paper. No, it was a pamphlet.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>An indie game expo? Here?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana looked back up at Hannah with raised eyebrows, to which Hannah rolled her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on Diana,” Hannah said, in a tone as if Diana couldn’t see the obvious, “this is a chance for you to showcase your games.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Showcase my games…?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, Hannah, but why would I want to do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannah placed her hands on her hip. “Because they’re good. Because you might meet people who like your games and share your interests. Duh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana’s flatmates had discovered that she had an interest in writing games about a few months after they had moved in with her. She had been happily making a game about the concept of the Hegelian dialectic when Barbara walked in through the door that Diana had forgotten to close. Her flatmate was asking her whether she wanted to check out the new hipster restaurant that had been all the buzz recently, when she saw the weird shapes on Diana’s screen and became curious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana had been embarrassed, but explained her hobby. She felt anxious when her flatmates said that they wanted to try her game. To her surprise, they actually enjoyed it, and understood what Diana was going for. After all, they were both literature students, and were vaguely aware of continental philosophy. She had felt a strange sense of relief and fulfilment from the fact that the girls appreciated what she had made, even if the game had been intended only for herself. Since that day, Diana had felt an unfamiliar ease with the girls that she didn’t feel with other people, and she occasionally would show her friends her games.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she had never shown her games to strangers before, neither online nor in the real world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t even have start menus, for god’s sake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t quite think that’s a good idea,” Diana said. “My games aren’t really meant for other people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but Barbs and I enjoy them,” Hannah responded. “And look how that turned out! You can’t deny that you like the fact that we like your stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana couldn’t, but validation wasn’t what she was after. “And I’m perfectly happy with just sharing them with you two.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Barbara walked in at that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Diana, don’t you think it would be good if you met with other people who shared your hobby?” the raven-haired girl asked. “If nothing else, I think getting perspectives from other people can help with your craft.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana couldn’t actually think of a rebuttal to this point. She couldn’t deny the obvious pitfalls of being your only critic. If she could hear different perspectives on her work, then would have a better idea of how her ideas and execution blended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm,” Diana hummed, “that is an excellent point, actually.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it that makes you a better communicator than me?” Hannah asked her best friend rather dramatically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dunno. I read a lot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, a lot of fanfiction.” Hannah rolled her eyes. “You better go, Diana!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girls left Diana’s room—without closing her door, which slightly annoyed the blonde.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana understood that her friends had her best interests in mind. And maybe they were right, talking to new people might do her some good.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a shrug, Diana typed the site address printed on the pamphlet onto her browser’s address bar.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>yes that is legit study advice, ur welcome</p><p>chapter 3 will drop on diakko day (i.e. very soon)!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Expo, Part I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Akko groggily opened her eyes. She had the vague feeling that she might have dreamt about potatoes.</p><p>She supposed that was what ought to happen when one stared at digital potatoes for half a dozen hours a day. Every day of her past week.</p><p>The brunette slapped around for her phone on the desk next to her bed, accidentally knocking down her plastic cup.</p><p><em> That </em> woke her up, as she rose so fast that she got whiplash.</p><p><em> Oh thank god, </em> Akko thought as she felt a wave of relief. <em> I was smart enough to drink all of it last night. </em></p><p><em> Smart </em> perhaps wasn’t the most appropriate adjective here. <em> Thirsty </em> would have been more appropriate.</p><p>Although, to her credit, investing in a plastic cup instead of a glass was a smart decision, one that she had come to after experiencing a lifetime of natural selection of cups, plates and bowls that suffered from her ownership.</p><p>Retrieving the fallen cup after a moment of struggle from her handicap of being unable to leave the warm embrace of her bed, she checked the time on her phone.</p><p>
  <em> 5:17 am. </em>
</p><p>Akko gulped. She prayed that she didn’t wake up any of her flatmates. Especially not Sucy. She held her breath for a moment, and only released it after making sure that she couldn’t hear the sounds of her flatmates storming towards her room.</p><p>Now that her safety had been ensured, she groaned.</p><p>She had something at ten, so that meant she had another five hours to go. But what was it that she was waiting for? It was just on the tip of her mind. She could almost feel it. Come on, come on—The expo.</p><p><em> The </em> expo.</p><p>And suddenly, as if a switch flipped in Akko’s brain, as if a million neurons suddenly sparked in explosive action, she was excited. She was giddy. She was positively vibrating with excess energy.</p><p>Today was going to be the first day that she would see people play her game. The first day of her career.</p><p><em> Ah crap, </em> she thought. <em> What am I going to do for the next five hours? </em> Akko knew herself too well; she would not be able to go back to sleep. She checked her messages.</p><p> </p><p><b>21:33 Amanda:</b> yo broski, when is ur thing tomorrow?</p><p><b>21:40 Amanda:</b> Akko??</p><p><b>21:42 Amanda:</b> jesus christ dont tell me ur already asleep</p><p> </p><p>Could anyone blame the brunette? She simply couldn’t wait, so she bugged Sucy over and over about having some of her strong stuff to sleep earlier until the Filipino girl relented. And <em> oh boy </em> was that stuff strong. Sucy had told her that it was some exotic brand of vodka that she got on Jasminka’s recommendation, but Akko could have sworn that the chemical engineer had done something to the composition of the alcohol because surely, vodka wasn’t supposed to be <em> murky, </em> right? It was almost <em> swamp-like. </em></p><p>It went down her throat with a taste of what she imagined what Shrek’s bathwater might have felt and tasted like, and left her with a burn that she had to wash down with milk.</p><p>But it did the trick, because a few minutes later, Akko was knocked out cold on her bed.</p><p> </p><p><b>05:31 Akko:</b> yeah lol sorry about that</p><p><b>05:32 Akko:</b> i was just to exited, u feel?</p><p><b>05:32 Akko:</b> excited*</p><p><b>05:33 Akko:</b> two excited*</p><p><b>05:33 Akko:</b> too excited</p><p><b>05:35 Akko:</b> anyway i booked a spot from 1 to 4, so just come by any time</p><p> </p><p>Akko grabbed her earphones from her desk and hit shuffle on her Spotify. She instantly beamed when she saw what the random number generator curated for her.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Life looks better </em>
</p><p>
  <em> When you’re on your trampoline </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But keep an eye on gravity </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And don’t forget to </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce!” Akko reiterated in beat with the absolute <em> bop </em> of a song. And when the singer started rapping in Japanese, so did Akko.</p><p>The excitable girl really did resonate with the indie band. In more ways than one, clearly.</p><p>She danced a little—well, if you could call wiggling around sporadically on her bed as dancing—as she scrolled through her social media feeds. Akko couldn’t help herself from visiting the thread on the indie games forum for the expo at Luna Nova, and posted “omg I’m so excited to meet u all!” She didn’t expect a response, nor did she care.</p><p>About an hour of having a mosh pit with herself on her bed that would have looked like a seizure to an outsider, Akko decided it was time to get up.</p><p>After she visited her bathroom, Akko walked to the kitchen to get some water and narrowly avoided bumping into her Finnish flatmate.</p><p>“Oh, Lotte!” Akko exclaimed in surprise. “Why are you up so early?”</p><p>“Actually, I’m usually up around this time.” <em> Oh. </em> “You’re up quite early, Akko.” Lotte chuckled.</p><p>“Well yeah, today’s a big day and I couldn’t fall back asleep.” Akko filled her cup with tap water and gulped a mouthful. It was a godsend, as lord knows Akko was familiar with the feeling of a parched throat the morning after whenever she drank alcohol.</p><p>“Oh yeah, that’s right,” Lotte remembered, giving Akko a soft, congratulatory smile. “I’ll try my best to visit you during your time slot. I’m sure Sucy will come, too.”</p><p>Akko gave the orange-haired girl a radiant smile, and said, “Thanks, Lotte! I appreciated it.”</p><p>The brunette helped Lotte fry some pancakes. Of course, when Akko first tried to cook in her new home, her flatmates wore varying degrees of concerned looks on their faces. Lotte was worried, but was polite about it. Sucy, on the other hand, had bluntly stated that she was fully willing to chloroform the shit out of Akko if it meant avoiding their building being reduced to scorched earth in a hellish blaze.</p><p>Akko insisted that her cooking was not only safe, but decent. Both of her flatmates had doubted that this was the case, but to their surprise, Akko managed to make Japanese curry and miso soup that had not only left the structural integrity of their building intact, but also tasted wonderfully. Akko was used to having people doubt her culinary abilities, and she didn’t begrudge them, as she knew that she could be very clumsy sometimes, and cooking was an activity that demanded full concentration.</p><p>Her aptitude for cooking was from her determination. When Akko was young, she was bent on learning to cook as a way to make her parents’ days a little less stressful and a little more joyful. Yes, there were instances in which mistakes were made, but through her bullheaded pursuit of the skill, she became decent at it. Not great, not awful, but <em> decent. </em></p><p>After breakfast was ready, Sucy shuffled out of her room in her nightgown, like a pale ghost hovering towards them. She rubbed her tired eyes, then again after seeing Akko. “Huh, so you really are up.”</p><p>It was a Wednesday, so the girls had classes. Akko, however, decided to skip her lectures that day just to attend the expo. Surely, a missed lecture or two didn’t hold a candle to a career, right?</p><p>Akko patted herself on the back for her highly mature decision. Life was about making sacrifices, after all.</p><p>Lotte and Sucy left for their classes, but not before Akko begged Sucy to swing by later, to which the purple-haired girl grunted in response.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Akko walked in a hurried pace towards the heart of Luna Nova Tech.</p><p>While she wasn’t particularly fond of it, she could appreciate the elegant, sandstone structures that stood tall and wide at the centre of the campus. Those were the oldest buildings, and so they were the ones with the most history and prestige.</p><p>Back in first year, when Akko was exploring the enormous campus with her flatmates, her jaw dropped when she first saw the magnificent, almost imposing architecture. She felt a sense of recognition that had coincided with bubbling excitement.</p><p>
  <em> “OhmygodyouguysIcan’tbelieveit,” Akko said in a single breath, as she jumped up and down. “Otousan and okaasan won’t believe me at all! Can you guys help me take a picture?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Her flatmate looked at each other in bemusement. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Um,” Lotte started, feeling unsure of what she was missing, “sure, Akko. Is this place important to you or your parents?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Akko looked at the Finnish girl as if she didn’t know the colour of the sky. “Lotte, can’t you see it? This is where Harry Potter was filmed!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Lotte cringed, as she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to pop Akko’s bubble. Sucy, on the other hand, cackled. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Wow, I think you’re right for once!” the Filipino girl said with an obviously disingenuous encouragement. Obviosity, as always, was a concept that eluded Akko. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “See? Sucy gets it!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Lotte shrugged and took a photo of Akko doing a ridiculous pose with the brunette’s phone. </em>
</p><p>God, it felt great to be attending the university where the films took place. Not that Akko was a fan of the series; it got too dark and angsty for her after the first movie. And Akko thought the author was kind of an ass. Nevertheless, her parents and their friends had been over the moon that their daughter was studying every day at such a famous place.</p><p>As she approached, she saw some people entering one of the halls that had an entrance near the far end of the quadrangle. Akko’s pace quickened as she saw what she came here for.</p><p>Walking through the doors, Akko was greeted by a hall that looked like a cathedral. It wasn’t overly spacious, but the fifty or so people that were already there held barely anything to the capacity of the room. As the expo was just beginning for the day, Akko saw some people—indie game creators, she assumed—setting up in stalls that were present.</p><p>There were dozens of stalls. Most of them have yet to be occupied by their scheduled developers, but some have already been set up. Each stall had a monitor, keyboard and mouse, loaned from a technology store not far from the university. To help fund the event, developers looking to showcase their games had to fork out fifteen pounds per hour. Akko was sure she had spent the best forty-five pounds of her life when she booked.</p><p>It was too early, as it had been a little past ten, but Akko wanted to see what other people created. It was often inspiring to her.</p><p>She walked over to the stall nearest to the entrance. The person there was a guy too old to be an undergrad—well, you could never know, since some of her classes had students who looked like their kids had probably graduated already. He had shoulder-length brown hair, overgrown stubble and a bit of a beer belly. Akko wasn’t going to judge. “Hi, I’m Atsuko Kagari, but you can call me A—”</p><p>“Oh, it’s you.”</p><p>Akko was taken off guard by the detached timbre of the man’s words. “Huh?”</p><p>“You’re the kid who covered for that redhead in the bar I worked at last year.”</p><p>Akko’s eyes widened. <em> Oh fuck. </em> “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about! I love throwing beer all the ti—”</p><p>“It was so obvious. Not a single person there believed you, not even the guy who puked on his way to the toilet.” His face scrunched in disgust, likely at the memory of having to clean the vomit before the smell could make the other inebriated patrons do the same.</p><p>“Please don’t get my friend into trouble! She didn’t mean it,” Akko begged, the words running out of her like a metaphorical projectile vomit.</p><p>“Whatever, it’s fine,” the Bartender sighed. “I was young once.”</p><p>The brunette was finally at ease. “Wow, I didn’t know you make games!”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s whatever. Just a hobby I do.”</p><p>Akko was slightly put off by his indifference. “Can I try your game?”</p><p>“Go ahead.” Akko finally looked at the monitor on the table in front of her. The accessories were hooked to the Bartender’s laptop. The start menu was plain; it only had two buttons, “Start Game” and “Controls”. Clicking on the latter button, it had only an immutable list of keybindings, which surprised Akko like the punchline of a very dry joke.</p><p>Starting the game, Akko found herself flying in the cockpit view of what appeared to be a fighter jet. She tried to fly up, but instead she crashed into the ground.</p><p>
  <em> Inverted controls!? </em>
</p><p>The Bartender smirked in amusement.</p><p>Akko, feeling egged on, tried again. This time, her jet tilted upwards, as she intended. She gave a cocky, triumphant grin that turned into an expression of horror as a blip on the screen turned out to be a speeding missile that crashed into her cockpit like a punch in the face.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>YOU DIED</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Akko felt a righteous anger that pushed her to try again. And again. And again. Akko figured out how to use and compensate for projectile travel time of her own missiles to strike down an enemy fighter jet the time after that, only to be hit with the “YOU DIED” death screen after a second jet decided to straight up crash into her.</p><p>The brunette groaned in frustration as the Bartender chuckled. He was definitely getting his money’s worth of entertainment. Akko eventually decided to begrudgingly thank the man and move on.</p><p>More stalls were tended at this point than when Akko had first arrived, and the number of people wandering around had more than doubled. It wasn’t crowded, thankfully, so Akko had the freedom to move around comfortably without bumping shoulders with anyone.</p><p>She saw a physics sandbox game where tall brick towers were smashed into pieces with bricks and dynamites. It was surprisingly satisfying to watch towers collapse into a puddle of bricks. <em> Maybe I should keep Amanda away from this game, </em>Akko considered, unironically—from a place of care. She had lost track of time from the free meditation she derived from destroying towers over and over again. The brunette had only left because the developer wanted to give other people a turn.</p><p>Another game that had caught Akko’s eye was a minimalistic platformer that had a Japanese art style. She looked over the shoulder of a blonde girl who controlled a tiny square that bounced around, picking up seeds. With each seed, the square would plant it on a tree to make it branch out. It was beautiful in a minimalistic sort of way, almost fractal-like. It looked as therapeutic as the physics sandbox game that Akko played earlier.</p><p>After wandering around the expo for a couple of hours, Akko felt her stomach grumble.</p><p>It should come as no surprise, as Akko had had breakfast earlier than she usually did, so naturally, by noon she was running on fumes. She decided that she was going to have lunch before coming back for her scheduled stall.</p><p>She exited the hall and walked in the direction of her favourite Thai place.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>There was no permutation of words in the English language that could describe Akko’s love for pad kee mao. The sweet and spicy flavours always fulfilled Akko’s taste buds in a unique way that nothing else could replicate. She had texted her friends whether they were available for lunch, but they all either had classes or other plans. Not that Akko was upset or anything—she was used to eating alone during lunchtimes at school back in Kyoto.</p><p>After paying for her meal—which, for the proximity to the campus and how delicious it was, was surprisingly inexpensive—Akko began walking back to the expo.</p><p>Walking through the grandiose entrance of the hall for the second time—technically the third time—that day, Akko wore a determined look on her face.</p><p>This was it.</p><p>This was what she had been working towards all her life. A shot at being a real indie developer whose games could be enjoyed by other people.</p><p>Ever since Akko had found out about the expo a little over a week ago, she prioritised delivering the game over all else. Akko couldn’t rush her opus magnum, of course. You simply couldn’t <em> rush </em> a <em> masterpiece. </em> So she did the next most logical thing, which was to spend an absurd amount of time working on her game, to the detriment of everything else in her week. She had nearly missed an assignment deadline. <em> Nearly, </em> because she didn’t, of course: her assignment wasn’t going to be a masterpiece by a <em> long </em> shot, so she could rush it.</p><p>Yes, Akko’s internal logic could be considered paraconsistent. The kind of thing that logicians and philosophers would spend their nights puzzling over.</p><p>Akko checked in with the staff, before finding her stall and appraising it with a strange fondness, as if she was looking at a magic lamp that would grant her wishes.</p><p>The brunette took out her laptop and charger from her bag, and proceeded to physically link all connectors to their appropriate ports. The external monitor screen blinked into life, revealing Akko’s self-drawn Shiny Chariot wallpaper to the world.</p><p>A couple of people turned their heads and raised their eyebrows, but if Akko noticed, she didn’t show it. The devout Shiny Chariot fan wasn’t embarrassed by the formative part of her. Why would she be?</p><p>Akko loaded up the starting screen of her game and waited. She held her head high and made eye contact with anyone who had even remotely turned their head towards her general direction.</p><p>Okay, maybe she was unintentionally scaring some people off, but she was just so excited!</p><p>After a while, Akko finally got her first player. A guy who looked her own age walked over awkwardly. He sat on the chair on the other side of the stall and pressed play. Akko could see his actions on her laptop screen. He wore a puzzled face at first, but had intuitively grasped the core gameplay of Akko’s game shortly.</p><p>After playing for a while, he stopped and nodded at Akko. Perhaps in appreciation of her game. Perhaps in bidding farewell. Akko wasn’t sure, but she’d be damned if she wasn’t getting a conversation out of his time. “So,” she began, “what do you think?”</p><p>“Um,” his eyes darted upwards as he thought about his dialogue options, “I think it’s good.”</p><p>
  <em> He thinks it’s good! </em>
</p><p>“But I was hoping that there would be a little… <em> more?” </em></p><p><em> More? </em> Akko was puzzled. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“I’m not really sure.”</p><p>“Oh. Well thanks anyway.”</p><p>The guy left to wander around, leaving Akko with a slight disappointment. What he said really wasn’t enough to go on.</p><p>Ah well. At least he played her game.</p><p>A girl approached her stall next. She had a wild punk haircut where one side of her head was shaved. She’d give Amanda a run for her money for having the flashiest hair around.</p><p>“Yo, what’s this?” The girl had asked rather directly. Akko was slightly taken aback.</p><p>“Uh, it’s a game that I made. Feel free to give it a go!”</p><p>The girl played Akko’s game for a minute. Then, she left without acknowledging her. Rude.</p><p>Akko didn’t let that get to her, because she knew there were always going to be people who didn’t respect her time. Why should she spare them another thought?</p><p>A few other people had tried her game after that. Their reception had been more like the first guy: lukewarm, polite, but didn’t have much else to offer. Akko wished people would speak their mind more often. She could definitely handle a bit of criticism if it really came to that.</p><p>Akko perked up when she spotted her friends in the crowd. She leaned out of her stall and waved at them vigorously, nearly knocking out a person who walked past her stall at that moment.</p><p>“Ey, look who it is,” Amanda said to the rest of their group in a boisterous tone, “I can’t believe it, <em> the </em> Atsuko Kagari?”</p><p>Akko pouted. “Just you wait, Amanda. You’re gonna eat your words!”</p><p>“Hey Akko,” Lotte politely greeted. “How has it been going?”</p><p>“It’s, uh, going,” Akko answered, feeling self-conscious for some reason.</p><p>“I take it that it hasn’t really been going, huh,” Sucy remarked boredly.</p><p>“I mean,” the Japanese girl sighed, “some people have played my game, but no-one really has anything to say about it.”</p><p>Constanze sat on the folding chair in front of the stall and started playing. Jasminka offered Akko a bag of potato chips, to which Akko declined, before settling for watching the German girl play her game.</p><p>“Don’t worry Akko,” Lotte reassured with a soft smile, “it’s just like that sometimes.”</p><p>Akko appreciated her flatmate’s sentiment.</p><p>“Say, Akko,” Amanda started as she watched the screen, “why does your game have so much <em> potatoes?” </em></p><p>“Aren’t potatoes a hallmark of English culture?” Akko asked, before reciting in a butchered impression of a Cockney accent, “Boil ‘em, mash ‘em, stick ‘em in a stew!”</p><p>“Wow, that’s racist <em> and </em> classist.” Sucy responded nonchalantly.</p><p>“Yeah, but why are you only focusing on the middle part of that quote?” Amanda asked.</p><p>“They deserve it,” Akko stated simply, as if reciting a unanimously agreed upon fact. The Japanese girl experienced the biggest culture shock of her life when she realised that the British <em> really </em> liked to add potatoes to every meal. Boiled, mashed, stuck into a stew, baked, fried, and such.</p><p>Amanda shrugged.</p><p>After some time, Akko’s friends bid their farewells to her, as they had classes to attend. At the start of Akko’s second hour there, the stall opposite to Akko vacated. Shortly after, a girl who looked her age occupied the stall. She had luscious blonde hair with tea-green streaks that reached the middle of her back, in curls that bounced as she connected her laptop to the setup. She wore a cream blouse with grey trousers and leather shoes that made her look too formal for a gaming expo. For a brief moment, the other girl’s cerulean eyes found Akko’s red ones, before directing down onto her own laptop.</p><p>The girl looked out of place. Like a shining diamond among a basket of coal. When she sat down, she looked around her, before waiting with what seemed like infinite patience. The other girl clearly didn’t feel the giddiness that Akko had felt when she had started an hour ago.</p><p>Throughout the next hour, Akko received a few players who seemed to all <em> shrug </em> before giving her game a try. <em> What does that even mean? </em> She just wished they would have more of a reaction to her game than polite indifference, and more things to say than just your usual obligatory comments for sitting in front of another person.</p><p>What <em> really </em> bothered Akko was the fact that in the single hour that the blonde opposite of her had been there, she received more traction than Akko had in her two hours. How was that fair? Was the overdressed girl bribing people to play her game? After all, one look at the girl and Akko was willing to swear on her trademarked half ponytail on her head that the girl was absolutely <em> loaded. </em></p><p>But that couldn’t have been the case, because as Akko curiously watched, some of the people who played her game seemed to have real conversations with her. Things to say. When they parted, they thanked her with a smile, which she returned politely. The only thing she could gather from where she sat was that the game was in first person.</p><p>Was she doing something right that Akko wasn’t?</p><p>Only one way to find out.</p><p>When the stall opposite to her seemed to be having a quiet period, Akko walked over and drew the attention of the blonde girl. “Hi!”</p><p>The other girl turned her gaze, from having been looking around the hall from where she sat, to the Japanese girl in front of her. “Hello,” she greeted politely, with recognition in her blue eyes. “I believe you’re tending the showcase opposite of me?”</p><p><em> Oh god, </em> Akko thought, <em> her accent is so posh. </em> She wasn’t intimated, but rather surprised at how smooth it sounded, like a soft melody that would complement a wintry morning.</p><p>“Yeah,” Akko responded. “My name is Atsuko Kagari, but you can just call me Akko!”</p><p>“Nice to meet you, <em> Akko.” </em> The way the blonde said her name made Akko feel goosebumps, like she was seeing how the name felt with her tongue. The girl smiled politely. “My name is Diana Cavendish.” <em> Diana, huh? </em> Diana continued. “I hope you’re finding the event to be of your liking?”</p><p>“Sure am!” Akko wasn’t sure if that was completely true, but she wasn’t about to be a party pooper any time soon. “I’d love to give your game a try.”</p><p>Diana raised her eyebrows. She was probably surprised that a fellow creator was interested in trying out her game during their booked time. She gestured fluidly towards her setup. “Of course, by all means.”</p><p>Akko sat down and looked at the screen. “Um,” she started awkwardly, “I think you forgot to restart the game for me.” The character that she seemed to be playing—not that she could see them, it was in first person of course—was standing on a bridge in what seemed to be the dead of night.</p><p>“That was intended,” Diana responded matter-of-factly. “There is no start menu. This is merely what you see when you launch the game.”</p><p>Akko was perplexed. “But <em> Diana, </em> you need a start menu, otherwise how am I supposed to look up and change my controls? I guess I could pause—”</p><p>“Actually, there is no pause menu either.”</p><p>“Eh!?” Akko was <em> scandalised. </em> No start menu? No pause menu? Surely it was not intentional. Did she really not bother to finish her game for the showcase? “How am I meant to get anything?”</p><p>“By playing the game,” Diana responded coolly. Perhaps a little put off by the brunette’s reaction. “Surely you have played a first-person game before? The controls should be intuitive for a developer like yourself.”</p><p>Akko swallowed her grievances. As first impressions went, Diana’s game was not doing so hot in Akko’s book. But never judge a book by its cover, as they say, so the brunette decided to give the rest of the game a shot.</p><p>Akko looked around the digital landscape, and all she saw was black. The night sky wasn’t really a <em> night, </em> more like an inescapable, oppressive darkness. There seemed to be an ocean extending around her towards infinity, with waves that crashed into the pillars of the bridge she was on. She could hear the violence through the headphones that Diana handed her. There was a strange shadow in one direction, so she walked that way. As she approached, the silhouette started to take the form of looming walls that seemed condescending yet impersonal. The walls, much like the waters surrounding her, stretched indefinitely in both directions. There was a gate that the bridge led into. She approached the gate—</p><p>The screen turned black.</p><p>“Um, Diana?” First, no start or pause menus, now a bug? This wasn’t looking good for the blonde. But before she could say anything else, details returned to the screen.</p><p>Akko was no longer on the bridge anymore. She was inside a stone structure. A complex that seemed grandiose, yet dead. Majestic, yet indifferent. The ceiling had areas not covered, in which lights bled through. And in its absence, left shadows that seemed to be haunting. Akko wandered around. There did not seem to be an objective, nor anything to do. It felt like an artificial yet lonely and desolate world. The stone pillars stood tall, holding the world together, but not for Akko. That feeling alone made the brunette shiver at an intangible, ominous presence that did not acknowledge her intrusion, as if she were just a speck of dust on the floor. There seemed to be ambient sounds of rocks falling, sands shifting, but if they existed, then they were out of her reach. There was also a low droning sound. It reminded her of the rumble of Kyoto subway stations late at night when it would be nearly devoid of other people.</p><p>Akko played for some time. Then, she stopped and handed Diana back her headphones. The blonde regarded her with interest. “Thank you for playing my work. I’d love to hear about what you thought of the experience.”</p><p>The brunette thought to herself before speaking. A rare sight, but she decided to be honest, something that she herself would have appreciated from the other people who played the game. She hoped Diana would appreciate it too.</p><p>“It was,” Akko started, “different.”</p><p>Diana quirked an eyebrow. “Different, how so?”</p><p>“Well, it’s not really a game, is it?”</p><p>The blonde was slightly taken aback. “It might not be a traditional game about completing objectives or attaining high scores, but I do believe it satisfies the definition of the game. Would you not agree?”</p><p>“Like, I don’t care about the dictionary definition of a game,” Akko responded, “but if it doesn’t feel like a game, then it’s just <em> not </em> a game. I’m not really sure what you were trying to go for.”</p><p>Diana’s expression remained unchanged, so Akko wasn’t sure why she felt as if she was in a minefield, as if a mistake could cost her dearly. She continued with a shrug, “Maybe I just didn’t find what I was supposed to, or missed something. I dunno.”</p><p>“Akko, I do not wish my game to be viewed as a checklist of things to do,” Diana responded, but now with a tone that made Akko feel frosty. “I intended it to be an experience. To elicit a feeling of loneliness and isolation. To portray the concept of being in an alien world, but one that even though you are physically in, you are not truly a part of. I hope I have accomplished that.”</p><p>“I guess,” Akko admitted. Diana gave an almost unnoticeable smirk, as if she felt triumphant about having defended her craft, but compromised with the need to be polite. That smirk disappeared entirely when Akko continued. “But that kinda thing belongs in an abstract art museum, but not an indie game expo. People play games to have <em> fun, </em> and that’s a fact.”</p><p>Was Diana affronted? Akko couldn’t tell. But she could imagine that Diana could be a world-class poker player if she wanted to. <em> Maybe that’s how she makes her money, </em> Akko wondered.</p><p>“I am sorry that you feel this way,” Diana spoke, in a tone that reminded Akko of how politicians would talk to each other. “But I do not believe the worth of my work should be judged on such a juvenile and inconsistent measure of value. People play games for a lot of reasons, Akko, and make games for even more. I had sought to depict something personal, in a way that I felt was the most appropriate.”</p><p>Akko rolled her eyes and shrugged. “No that’s fine, I get it. If you wanna make abstract, artsy-fartsy games, go ahead. Don’t let me stop you.” She looked back at her own stall, before meeting Diana’s gaze, as if challenging her. “But,” she continued with a confident smirk, “if you want to see a <em> real </em> game, my door is open.” A pause. “Metaphorically.”</p><p>Diana held her gaze for a moment with an intensity that almost made Akko falter before surprising Akko with a single word.</p><p>
  <em> “Certainly.” </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*as if*  Bonito Generation wouldn't be one of Akko's favourite albums</p><p>indie game inspirations:<br/>- the jet piloting game: 'Sky Rogue'<br/>- the tower destroying game: 'Throw Cubes into Brick Towers To Collapse Them'<br/>- the game about growing trees: 'Ungrounded'<br/>- Diana's game: 'Fugue in Void' (i <b>love</b> this one)<br/>All of which can be found on itch.io!</p><p>... and yes, that was a Little Pilot Academia reference, ty.</p><p>Happy Diakko day!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Expo, Part II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Diana woke up that morning with a calmness that even she herself was surprised by. A part of her had expected nervousness, since the day was different from most, breaking the routine that she had taken refuge and comfort in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t that Diana was afraid of meeting new people. No, she understood perfectly the art of making first impressions, being pleasant, making people feel as though they were interesting and had more sway in things than they actually did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But for people to actually experience something that was personal to her? Now </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> was foreign. She didn’t know how she felt about it, but it definitely wasn’t anything welcoming. That was the emotional part of Diana’s mind. The rational part told her that it didn’t matter. That everyone would project themselves onto any experience she could offer, making their experiences unique and distinct from her’s. And as the blonde was wont to do, she allowed the rational part of her mind to dictate how she felt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Therefore, she got up, made her bed, showered, and performed the rest of her morning rituals as if it were any other day. Diana had only booked for two hours from two to four, which ensured that there were no conflicts in her schedule. Staying on top of her classes was a far greater priority than frivolously overstaying her welcome at the exhibition.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And plus, two hours was plenty. A large factor that had resulted in her decision to go had been the fact that Hannah was </span>
  <em>
    <span>bullheaded.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana understood perfectly that if she didn’t acquiesce to her friends’ suggestion, Hannah would have not relented until Diana did. The girl was as fiery as her hair, a warlord that would have made Sun Tzu cower in fear. Diana most definitely didn’t want to imagine herself in the shoes of the American that had pissed off Hannah at the start of the semester.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But of course, Diana didn’t just do things because other people told her to. She knew that she was overdue for something different. Not that she minded the routine nature of her life, but even someone as compulsive as Diana knew a small change could do her some good. Even if she hadn’t expected much from the showcase.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had visited the exhibition after her morning lecture—not that she was particularly interested in playing other people’s games; Diana was really there to see whether she had any reason to cancel her booking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t find any.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana did find herself surprisingly enjoying the short time she had spent trying out some of the games that were showcased. Her polite conversations with the creators were pleasant. Diana could see that some of the creators had placed a piece of themselves into their work, something that she herself could relate to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time Diana left for her second class of the day, she almost felt anticipation for her afternoon. She couldn’t recall the last time she truly felt anticipation for anything, as she had planned her life meticulously, almost mathematically. After all, spontaneity is uncertainty. Uncertainty is risk. And risk should be </span>
  <em>
    <span>eliminated.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After Diana’s tissue engineering class, she had visited a cafe on the way to the quadrangle for a quick bite before walking towards the exhibition hall. Once inside, she immediately found a volunteer to check herself in, and made way to her designated stall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Diana began the process of setting up her showcase, she noticed a girl watching her from the behind opposite stall. Out of curiosity, Diana looked in the girl’s direction. She saw brunette hair that drooped down like curtains around her slightly tanned complexion, decorated with a half fringe and the most quirky—and possibly adorable—half ponytail that Diana had ever seen. Her expression wore a bored curiosity towards Diana’s direction. For a split second, her own blue eyes met a deeply contrasting pair of crimson ones on the other girl’s face. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What a strange colour,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana internally marvelled, almost getting lost in the striking hue. She caught herself before the length of her staring could be misconstrued as impoliteness, and shifted her gaze down the girl’s chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that Diana was trying to check out the other girl, but rather the brunette’s T-shirt had caught her attention. Going by the slightly washed out colours, it was an old Shiny Chariot shirt. Diana’s expression nearly faltered into one of distaste, before quickly recovering herself by focusing on finishing her setup.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once her laptop was connected to the monitor, keyboard, mouse and her charger, Diana dug into her bag for one last piece of peripheral. Old, unused headphones that she still had with her in her flat. For the full, intended experience of her game, users needed to have decent sound. The speakers on the monitors were not enough to provide the immersive soundscape that was a core aspect of the experience, and when she had asked, the manager of the event said that they weren’t providing headphones. As the thought of dozens of strangers wearing Diana’s personal headphones made her shiver, she decided to sacrifice her redundant headphones for the occasion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first visitor came only about a minute after she completed her setup. A Sri Lankan student—the last part she presumed based on his age—was intrigued by the strange images on her screen. Diana gave a polite smile. “Hello, would you like to try it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The student awkwardly smiled back and responded, “sure.” He sat in front of the stall and began moving around the impossible world. Diana watched as his expression morphed from initial puzzlement to an almost studious fascination. She could tell that he was no longer trying to understand her work as a conventional video game, but rather as an art piece.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a few minutes he stopped and took off the headphones. “That was… interesting,” he remarked. He seemed to be trying to collect his thoughts. “Especially the opening setting with the water. It felt very… hm...” The student was struggling to find a word that describes his feelings. It wasn’t his lack of familiarity with the English language, as he sounded rather fluent to Diana. She wasn’t aware that her own lips had slightly turned upwards. She sympathised with his struggle, as that was the point of art, to describe intangible things that simple words could not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sublime, perhaps?” Diana suggested.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes! That’s right,” the student almost jumped at the suggestion as though it were a lifeline in the very waters he was trying to describe, “sublime.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He thanked her and moved on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>People came and went after that. It had almost become a blur for Diana. It had felt slightly surreal that strangers who she otherwise would have never met would sit down in front of her, try her game, offer some discussion, then leave. Her friends never came, but this was as expected. Hannah and Barbara had offered to visit Diana’s stall during her showcasing times, but the blonde had insisted that a much more worthy alternative of spending their time is with their weekly lunch with Avery and her friends.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One woman had commented that her usage of the black landscape in the first scene felt too heavy-handed, but expressed her </span>
  <em>
    <span>respect</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the following scene. Diana wasn’t sure whether the other woman was trying to give a backhanded compliment, but the Cavendish was read in the art of diplomacy, and so she thanked the woman anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another had been a somewhat scruffy man who clearly gave himself that haircut. He commented that he didn’t really understand what the game was trying to say, but had said that the game was </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana had absolutely no idea what he had meant, and she wasn’t sure if he himself knew either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was another man who—for reasons that Diana could only guess—wore latex gloves and refused to use the headphones. He started a discussion on why the interactive metaphor would have been more powerful if the player could fall off the bridge and drown. Diana was </span>
  <em>
    <span>certain</span>
  </em>
  <span> that he missed the point.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was how strange the encounters would go. So while she had been surprised by the attention she received for her showcase, and that her work had been met with positivity—honestly, she couldn’t tell half the time—, Diana had also somewhat felt out of place. The interactions were sometimes straining and awkward, and in the end she had learnt nothing, gained nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh well,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>at least people had played my game and were nice about it—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s thoughts were interrupted by an exuberant chirp. She looked up and was greeted with Shiny Chariot in her full glory. She turned her gaze even higher and recognised the brunette that tended the stall opposite of her. Her gaze briefly looked down and saw short maroon shorts. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Somehow,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that makes sense.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana greeted back, before the other girl introduced herself with</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My name is Atsuko Kagari, but you can just call me Akko!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Akko.</span>
  </em>
  <span> My name is Diana Cavendish.” The blonde felt strange as she toyed the unfamiliar name with her tongue. It was a cute name. The Japanese girl that the name denoted had an accent that was barely noticeable, although it was really the lack of any British accents that gave away her foreignness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just like anyone that had approached Diana’s stall in the past hour, she gave Akko the opportunity to try her game. The blonde was slightly taken aback when Akko had made such a deal about the absence of the start and pause menus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In hindsight, Diana should have been more surprised about the fact that the brunette had been the first person to remark on that aspect of her game.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>More generally, none of Diana’s games had any text. In her mind, having text was a lazy concession to the artistic work required to communicate the point in a more effective manner, and thus defeated the purpose of the medium.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko continued playing the game. For once, Diana was actually genuinely curious as to what a visiter had to say about her work.</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Certainly.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana had said that with the arrogant confidence of a polemicist. But that had been a mistake, as the moment the word had left her lips, she regretted it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Akko had been playing her game, Diana could see her distaste for her work, as evident by the furrowed brows, thinned lips and the way the brunette girl had bounced her leg. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She wasn’t getting it,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana thought. While most people had probably walked away from Diana’s stall without the personal experience that she derived from her own work, they had nonetheless walked away with something. However, it was clear as day that this girl was going to walk away with </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not a single meaning derived from her experience. Not any significant emotion. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana thought humorlessly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>unless I count frustration.</span>
  </em>
  <span> So, Diana had braced herself for whatever that the girl would say at the conclusion of her experience. But having the foresight of something unpleasant happening doesn’t mean it is going to be any less unpleasant. Not at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko hadn’t just trashed her game. No, she didn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>acknowledge</span>
  </em>
  <span> it as a game. Sure, Diana had obviously known that her game was unconventional, but it was still a game, and deserved to be treated and engaged as one. To disregard all the things that her work might have to say—all the effort she had put into this personal passion project—on the basis that it wasn’t something like Tetris or Doom was </span>
  <em>
    <span>deeply</span>
  </em>
  <span> offensive to Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It implied that Diana didn’t deserve to be in that hall. That her game deserved to be shelved in a contemporary art museum to be ignored by the traditionally-minded masses who couldn’t afford the time to sit and think on something that they don’t immediately understand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, Diana had never had a desire to share her creations, but if she did, then she most definitely didn’t deserve to be treated with such contempt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So when the Japanese girl had </span>
  <em>
    <span>challenged</span>
  </em>
  <span> her with a spectacle of a so-called </span>
  <em>
    <span>real </span>
  </em>
  <span>game, Diana couldn’t help but to give her a fierce look in the eyes and accept in the way that she did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment she accepted, she realised that this could only go in one direction. Downhill. She had felt a rush of heat in her head right before that moment. Perhaps a primal part of Diana had sought retribution or dominance. Maybe she wanted to hurt the other girl in the same way that she had hurt her—by attacking her creation. But that couldn’t be right, because Diana was composed, rational, and had a cool head at all times. Her intentions had never been nothing short of nobility, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko had seemed like she was taken off guard by Diana’s spur of the moment answer, which actually made the blonde feel </span>
  <em>
    <span>slightly</span>
  </em>
  <span> satisfied with her decision. Akko recovered quickly, however, as she grinned and said, “A-alright! Great, cool! Come on over, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana walked out of her stall and strode over in front of Akko’s. The latter girl gestured to her setup. “Start whenever you want,” Akko said, “which is easy because you can just click the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Start Button.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The audacity of this gir—wait,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana blinked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Did she just give me a wink?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Indeed, the brunette had given her an overexaggerated wink that made it look like she was struggling to control her facial muscles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana looked at the screen in front of her. The background looked like a sea of potatoes </span>
  <em>
    <span>marching.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She paused for a moment just to make sure. Yes, the dozens of potatoes on her screen did not have limbs, eyes, helmets, guns, nor any other anthropomorphised feature, yet they were bobbing up and down in synchrony as they travelled from the left of the screen to the right. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She then looked at the big words in the centre of the screen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>POTATO S-MASHER</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>[Start Game]</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>[Options]</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>[Credits]</b>
</p>
<p>
  <b>[Exit]</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What in the world…?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana silently prayed that this game wasn’t what she thought it was going to be. What all signs had been pointing to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a silent dread, she clicked Start Game.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>… An opening crawl?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s the year 2069.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The potato army has risen up against humankind.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Decades of cruelty has been inflicted upon the survivors.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But fear not, for there rises a rebel who will become the savier of humans!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Rise up, the </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>POTATO S-MASHER!</em>
  </b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diana could not believe what she was reading. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Savier?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She blinked away the bewilderment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dear god, is this a cutscene?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Black bars gradually appeared from the bottom and top of the screen, making the cutscene cheesily cinematic. A potato wearing a military helmet hovered into the screen. It had no other anthropomorphic features. “Commander!” It spoke in an overacted, high-pitched voice. “We’re in trouble! Our troops are being mashed by the Potato S-Masher! We need to retreat!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The camera panned to the side, revealing a bigger potato, with a bigger helmet. It’s rank is distinguished by a medal it wore on it’s chest—whatever chest means for a potato. It had no other anthropomorphic features. “Arrrghh!” it roared, in a deep timbre that was obviously deep and fake.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The potato soldier could do nothing else but cower in fear as the potato commander leaped like a frog and landed on them, mashing them with a ridiculously meaty splat sound. “You fools!” The potato commander shouted in their overly dramatic deep voice. “We will not retreat! Do not stop until the Potato S-Masher is mashed!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The scene zoomed out to show an army of potato soldiers rolling out. The screen faded to black.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diana didn’t know how to react. She simply stared blankly at the screen, even after the cutscene finished. From behind the stall, Akko was studying the blonde’s face with an almost frightening intensity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When colours returned to the screen, Diana saw what looked like the no man’s land of a battlefield. A timer appeared at the top of the screen, counting down from sixty seconds. The monitor’s speakers started blasting mechanical noises. Diana had initially thought that the speaker was broken, before she cringed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dubstep. It’s playing dubstep.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Potato soldiers began flooding the screen. Instinctively, Diana tried clicking on a potato soldier, and she jumped from the appearance of a large hand that </span>
  <em>
    <span>slapped</span>
  </em>
  <span> the potato onto the ground with the same gross splat sound effect from the cutscene before—she wasn’t sure how she heard it over the </span>
  <em>
    <span>screeching</span>
  </em>
  <span> of synths. Honestly, Diana had felt that slap as if she were the poor potato trooper. Her score seemed to increase, so she continued brutalising the poor potatoes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Really, the game needed a trigger warning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana supposed that she shouldn’t feel too bad about smashing—</span>
  <em>
    <span>s-mashing?</span>
  </em>
  <span>—the taters, as she realised that it was in self-defense, since whenever she ignored a potato trooper, it jumped out at her and reduced her health bar by a little. So she doubled her efforts, fingering the mouse in a way that was worthy of inappropriate metaphors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was almost kind of confronting to see that as the game went on, mashed and brutalised potatoes covered the field. Their carcasses just simply didn’t disappear. In a way it made the game more challenging as it became harder to see new potatoes. In another way it depicted the horrors of war, although by this point, Diana knew that if the brunette seemed to make any cerebral statements with her game, it would be purely accidental.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the timer counted down, Diana had expected the game to end. Served her right for having any expectations when it came to Akko. Instead of the game ending, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>big</span>
  </em>
  <span> potato, which she recognised as the potato commander by their medal, jumped out at the screen in an anime-esque fashion. An indicator appeared on the screen:</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Mash </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>S</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> to S-Mash for Points!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diana shrugged and half-heartedly mashed the S key on the keyboard. Every keypress seemed to slap the melon-sized potato from a random angle, and eventually, the potato exploded and sprayed the screen with mash. Diana was sure she didn’t want to see or hear the word “mash” for at least a week after this. Surely, this was the end, right?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Press </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>F</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> to Pay Respects</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>War crimes are bad!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Christ, I can’t take any more of this torture,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana begged internally. It had seemed that the gods granted the blonde this small leniency. She had never had a religious experience before.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>HUMANITY IS SAVED!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Lovely.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>… THE POTATO S-MASHER WILL RETURN…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, the Potato S-Masher has yet to return, so the game ended with the leaderboard.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>1st: 1910 pts - conze</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>2nd: 1870 pts - conze</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>3rd: 1790 pts - conze</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>4th: 1750 pts - shiny akko</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>5th: 1710 pts - conze</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>6th: 1690 pts - shiny akko</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>YOU: 940 pts</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I knew you could do it!” Akko exclaimed. “Shame that you couldn’t break the leaderboard though. You can try again!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana was most definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to try again. “No, thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what do you think?” Akko looked at Diana expectantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana was torn. She could just be polite, give a nice but disingenuous answer. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Perhaps it would be condescending to assume that Akko can’t take criticism,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana pondered. But the blonde’s thoughts about her game were entirely negative. There wasn’t any aspect that she could feel genuine praise for. If she simply ripped into Akko’s game, surely that would not result in anything good?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some strange part of Diana egged her on. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why not be honest? After all, even if I didn’t like what she had to say about my game, she at least respected me enough to be honest. Even if she didn’t respect my work.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But if she gave her unbridled thoughts, would she really be doing it out of a place of respect and desire to see her fellow creator grow, or was it really just </span>
  <em>
    <span>retribution?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She didn’t know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she was Diana, and when in doubt, brutal honesty is often the best policy. Like ripping off a bandaid. “Do you really want my honest opinion? You might not like it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko cocked her head, as if she couldn’t comprehend that a person might not enjoy the game in the way that she intended. “Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana drew a breath, before letting it out. “I’ll begin with the things that are positive about your game.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko perked up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your potato assets are very realistic.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks! I spent a lot of time on—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana looked directly into Akko’s eyes. “Now, onto the less positive aspects.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wha—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t concede to Akko’s interjection and continued. “Your gameplay is fundamentally monotonous and merely a point-and-click exercise with a fresh coat of paint. The delivery of the setting and subject matter is tacky and unremarkable, to the extent where I would argue that there aren’t any substantial themes at all. Your rather thoughtless engagement with the topic of war crimes at the end borders on being offensive. I could probably talk extensively about how problematic your game is on a thematic level, as well as how lacking it is on a mechanical one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko’s jaw was wide open, as if she was expecting a dental examination—although perhaps more to the point, one could say that she had just realised that she had unwittingly sat a game development exam a moment ago. One that she was receiving a reprimand for failing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But most of all,” Diana continued in a tone of finality, as if reaching a conclusion, “your game is </span>
  <em>
    <span>meaningless.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It is </span>
  <em>
    <span>soulless.</span>
  </em>
  <span> There is absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> that anyone can extract from your game that would be worth the minute or two it would take to complete it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Japanese girl blanched. Her eyes were wide, perhaps elsewhere. She stammered incomprehensibly, “I—but—w-wha—but—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana felt a little sympathy for her. Receiving tough but necessary criticism is a difficult skill. “Akko, I hope you don’t misconstrue my criticisms as untoward attacks on your character. I admire the fact that you have at least tried in this game. My remarks are merely fair commentary on your game for which I believe you will benefit from—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fair?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> It had seemed that Akko recovered, as her face was no longer pale, but flushed with anger. She wore a scowl as she uttered the word, as if it was an insult. Her voice was slightly raised, carrying a venom that took Diana by surprise. “There’s nothing </span>
  <em>
    <span>fair</span>
  </em>
  <span> about what you just said! You called my game </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘fundamentally monotonous’,</span>
  </em>
  <span> yet you made a game about doing absolutely nothing and expect me to even call it a game!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana felt herself instinctively pull back from the stall. She began in a calm voice, “My game isn’t about doing, but rather about feeling—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Feeling?</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m sorry but at least I give my players actual </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> context to </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> about,” Akko seethed. “You expect me to feel something in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>game</span>
  </em>
  <span> that has nothing in it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana had flinched when Akko swore in the way she did. Akko’s words had left her feeling more than slighted. She was affronted. “Maybe it only feels like nothing to </span>
  <em>
    <span>you, </span>
  </em>
  <span>because you have nothing of value to say or express, which, if I am going by this </span>
  <em>
    <span>travesty</span>
  </em>
  <span> of a game, seems to be the case.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t even know what a game is!” Akko nearly shouted. By this point, the neighbouring stalls and visitors eyed them from the corners of their eyes awkwardly. “I made my game so people can have fun and have a good time. You made your game because, I don’t know, you’re buzzkill who can’t let other people enjoy things.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand that you believe that games are mere </span>
  <em>
    <span>toys,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana’s eyes hardened at Akko, “but I would be lying if I said that anyone could actually enjoy your game.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana saw something change in Akko’s eyes. She could have sworn her eyes became darker.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Leave.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko had growled the command in a way that made the hairs on the back of Diana’s neck stand. She held Akko’s intense stare for another moment, before she huffed and stood wordlessly to walk back to her own stall. The other people in their vicinity did all they could to pretend they didn’t overhear their tense exchange.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking straight forward, Diana saw that Akko was still staring at her angrily with her arms folded across her chest. She felt uncomfortable, so she pulled out her phone to stare at, not even bothering to unlock it. Akko’s fixation on her broke a moment later, and when Diana snuck a glance at her, she saw that the brunette was staring at a particular empty spot on her table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana truly regretted how her exchange with the other girl panned out. She didn’t intend to offend the brunette, not really. Of course, Diana had felt some sense of comeuppance when she had criticised Akko’s game. But she had only been honest and objective in her remarks. As honest as Akko had been when she had given her thoughts on Diana’s game. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She hadn’t apologised for her candor, so why should I?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana checked the time on her phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>3:34 pm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She still had nearly half an hour. Diana sighed. As she sat behind her stall, she felt uncomfortable. The tense atmosphere from before lingered like cigarette smoke on the streets of London at night, spreading toxicity into her lungs, constricting her every breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko had not moved since Diana had left. Still staring at the table. Her posture slumped, perhaps even lower than the last time the blonde snuck a glance. She looked pitiful. Perhaps when Akko would have some time to herself and cool down, she would come to see the more constructive aspects of Diana’s words, and not the bickering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Diana wouldn’t be around to see that. It felt almost like claustrophobia, as she was filled with an overpowering urge to leave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, can I try your game?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana looked up to find a man with a cordial smile. “Sorry, I was about to leave.” She was surprised that she could feel the polite smile on her face and hear the evenness of her voice. Well, at least it was good to know that her habits wouldn’t fail her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man looked confused, clearly aware that the hour was not up yet. Nevertheless, he nodded and moved on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana packed up her things swiftly. She took one last look at Akko before she left the hall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko didn’t seem like she noticed her leaving.</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Diana walked through the front door into her flat, she saw that her friends were already home. Barbara was in the middle of preparing tea while Hannah was reading A Room of One’s Own on the couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah noticed her first. “Oh, hey Diana. How was the expo?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was fine,” Diana responded as she paced towards her room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Diana, do you want some tea? I’m just making some right now.” Barbara asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, but thank you,” Diana responded as she entered her room and closed the door. Barbara shared a glance with Hannah.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After entering her room, Diana charged her laptop and phone. She stood in the middle of her room for about a minute before she fell onto her bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her encounter with the brunette girl was playing in her mind over and over like a broken record. She imagined the things that she could have said instead. Things that would have made it better. Things that would have made it worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana closed her eyes. The day had been a mistake. If she hadn’t have gone, she wouldn’t have been offended by Akko, and she wouldn’t have offended her. And she would have had the mental energy to continue studying into the night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t even want to work on games. It felt tainted in some way. If she tried now, it would just remind her of the things Akko had said. The things that she said back to Akko. So really, she had been robbed of her night in some way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who had been in the wrong? Diana didn’t want to believe that it was her, but it was hard to reconcile that belief with the way Akko had looked before she left. It was as if the brunette was sapped of her soul. Diana could tell that Akko was usually an exuberant girl, so she was unsettled by her lethargy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana heard a knocking on her door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Diana, can we come in?” Hannah asked from the other side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Diana started, “I’m tired and I would like to—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door opened anyway and Hannah walked in, followed by Barbara.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Hannah asked, before adding, “And don’t say yes. We wouldn’t believe you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana opened her eyes and sat up from her bed. She appreciated her friends’ concern, but she didn’t feel like talking to them. “No, but I’ll be fine in a bit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here.” Barbara handed Diana a warm teacup. The blonde thanked her and took a sip. The warmth that the tea had left as it went down her throat made her feel a little better. A little more relaxed. “Did something happen at the expo?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana took a moment to gather her thoughts. “It was mostly fine. But I had a heated disagreement with another creator there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her friends looked at her expectantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She didn’t like my game, and I didn’t like her’s. It came to some bickering and it’s just weighing on my mind at the moment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah’s cheeks flushed with indignation. “What’s her name? I can fuck her up for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hannah, calm down!” Barbara harshly whispered to her best friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana found her friend rather endearing at that moment and offered a small smile. “I appreciate the sentiment, Hannah, but there’s no need.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you’re clearly upset,” Hannah responded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, but I’m as upset at myself as I am at her,” Diana admitted with a sigh. “I shouldn’t have let it go as far as it did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s still her fault. And your games are great, why wouldn’t anyone like them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana shrugged. “I guess everyone has different tastes. Although to be fair, I never made any of my games with the intention of letting strangers play them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barbara softly touched Diana’s arm. “We’re really sorry this happened, Diana,” the girl apologised sincerely. “If we had known something like this could happen, we wouldn’t have insisted you go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, please. Don’t apologise. It wasn’t your fault,” Diana said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her friends pulled Diana up from her bed for a hug—or more precisely, a Diana sandwich. She could do very little apart from soaking up the affection that her friends gave her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana thanked whichever god that had given her these girls as flatmates.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t take too much convincing from either of them for Diana to join her flatmates for dinner.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>so, game of the year??</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Pointless Toast</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“... and then she told me that </span>
  <em>
    <span>no-one</span>
  </em>
  <span> could ever like my game!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeesh, that’s harsh, dude,” Amanda remarked with raised eyebrows. “Sounds like a real bitch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, right?” Akko vented. “Like, I can kinda get if she didn’t like my game, ‘cause she seemed to have bad tastes, but to say that nobody else can enjoy my game? I’m sorry but that’s just talking out of your perfect ass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda and Sucy simultaneously raised their eyebrows at that last part.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lotte rubbed the brunette’s back in soothing circles. “I’m sure that’s not true,” she started, “I don’t know much about games, but I thought you put a lot of effort into it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Lotte.” Akko raised her glass to her lips and felt immense disappointment as only a single drop of bitterness slid onto her tongue. She tried pouring some more beer from the jug into her glass, but was instead met with another wave of disappointment as—yet again—only a single droplet fell into her glass, which she shrugged and drank with much effort. “Whose turn is it to buy another jug?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All eyes on the table turned to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Akko dug out her wallet and checked that she had enough cash. She doesn’t carry her card around as an exercise of self-discipline. “Do you guys want apple cider or another round of beer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beer,” Amanda instantly responded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve had beer for the last two rounds,” Jasminka said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but I’m American.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no fucking clue what that has to do with anything,” Sucy responded. “But half of us like cider more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda had a look of betrayal on her face. “What? I thought you were a beer gal!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am, but I wouldn’t mind a break,” Sucy responded, before glaring at the redhead with her one visible eye. “And don’t call me </span>
  <em>
    <span>gal</span>
  </em>
  <span> ever again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright I’m gonna get apple cider.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko stood from her chair and walked to the bar. “Hey I’d like to get a—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A look of recognition flashed through the brunette’s eyes as her brain shortcuited. “It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>you!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The Bartender looked at Akko unimpressively, and said, “Really. You haven’t recognised me all year?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? That can’t be right,” Akko said in disbelief, “I’ve been coming to Last Wednesday’s for, like, more than half a year now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And didn’t you work at the other bar?” Akko asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This place needed a new bartender,” the Bartender responded. “It paid the same, except I don’t have to clean up vomit every half hour past eight, so it was a no-brainer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko shuddered at the image in her brain, almost killing her appetite for alcohol. “Thanks for, uh, not making a big deal about having us here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No problem,” the Bartender responded boredly. “I’m a professional and don’t turn away cash cows. Now are you gonna order or do you wanna keep holding up the other customers?” He gestured at the growing line of irritated patrons behind Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko gulped. “O-one jug of apple cider, please!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which one?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever is the cheapest.” The Bartender gave Akko a disapproving look. “What? I’m a uni student.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shrugged and started filling a jug from a cider tap. “Um, that’s definitely not the cheapest,” Akko remarked awkwardly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a little something for entertaining me in the expo with your awful skills,” he said as he handed Akko the jug of cider and took the cash from Akko’s hand. “Now get outta here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, thanks.” Akko didn’t know whether she should feel grateful for the discount or offended by the man’s remark about her gaming ability. She shrugged and smiled. A discount was a discount, and she would happily count this minor blessing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko summoned all of her concentration—which, admittedly, wasn’t a lot—to avoid spilling the contents of the jug. Even a minor spill would be akin to throwing away a hundred yen. She eventually made it back to the table after a stressful journey and set the jug down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shit,” Amanda said, clearly impressed. “Akko’s busting out the big bucks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, the bartender gave me a discount.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda looked at Akko quizzically, but didn’t bother asking. The brunette poured herself half a glass and took a sip. “Ah,” Akko sighed contentedly as the sweet flavour washed over her taste buds. “This is so good. Anyway, what were we talking about again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The perfect ass of that girl who shat all over your game,” Sucy responded nonchalantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? I didn’t call her ass perfect,” Akko said, as if Sucy was insane.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes you did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No I didn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko looked confident in her belief. Sucy met Amanda’s eyes, to which the redhead shrugged, before sighing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, so anyway,” Akko began, her scowl returning, “what a hater. I won’t let her words get to me, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Sucy asked. “You seemed pretty upset when you came back. You were in your room for hours playing that depressing Johnny Cash’s cover of Hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh, she couldn’t have been that depressed, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All eyes were on Amanda. They were eyes that simultaneously questioned and exclaimed </span>
  <em>
    <span>“what the fuck?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“... ‘Cause, uh, you know… it’s not the Nine Inch Nails’ version,” Amanda muttered awkwardly as she raised her glass to her lips and took a self-conscious sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko ignored Amanda. She knew that Sucy asked not because she wanted to out her vulnerability, but out of a place of concern. “To be honest, I was feeling pretty down after the whole thing,” Akko admitted. “Like, she gave lots of reasons why she hated my game. Surely, if even just one of those reasons are true, then that gives other people a reason to hate my game, right? And I thought, if people hate my game, then they won’t enjoy it. What would be the point of trying to make games? Trying to make it as an indie game creator? What was the point of even being </span>
  <em>
    <span>here?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The table was silent as they waited for Akko to continue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So yeah, that got me into a funk. What got me out of that funk is Sucy and Lotte helping me realise that there are always gonna be haters out there. Like, there are even critics who don’t like The Legend of Arcturus! Can you believe that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The table remained silent. Akko continued. “I know right! Crazy. Anyway yeah, so I’m fine now. Plus, my game developing skills can only get better from here, so screw the haters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Constanze showed Akko her notepad: </span>
  <em>
    <span>I liked your game.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko beamed and bearhugged the small German girl. “Aw I’m so glad, Conze! From now on I’ll send you all of my games!” Wait, was she teary?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Constanze struggled and fought to breathe, as if she really was being mauled by a grizzly bear. Who knew the skinny yet hyperactive brunette girl had so much strength in her arms?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you didn’t let that… asshole bring you down. Oh yeah, do you know who they are?” Amanda asked as she took a gulp of her cider.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think she said her name was Diana Caven…</span>
  <em>
    <span>ditch?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda did a spit take that nearly reached Sucy—</span>
  <em>
    <span>“what the fuck?”</span>
  </em>
  <span>—before choking on her cider in a coughing fit. Jasminka patted her flatmate’s back with strong smacks that resonated across the room and nearly overpowered the redhead’s body. Akko looked at her in bemusement and concern. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes—</span>
  <em>
    <span>cough</span>
  </em>
  <span>—yes I’m—</span>
  <em>
    <span>ow</span>
  </em>
  <span>—Jasminka </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The Russian girl obliged as the American recovered. “Do you mean Diana </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cavendish?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Amanda asked in anticipation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Do you know her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck,” Amanda said in surprise, “I heard she’s flatmates with Hannah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hannah? As in the girl that you wanted to give an </span>
  <em>
    <span>almighty</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gatsby to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sucy,</span>
  </em>
  <span> that one,” Amanda responded in a mixture of cringe and irritation. Sucy snickered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is that going, by the way?” Lotte asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not going. She’s been ignoring me every time I try to talk to apologise or something, and giving me these dirty looks with her friend Barbara like I should sleep with one eye open at night—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Akko impatiently interjected, “what do you know about Diana Cavendish?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda searched her brain. “Not much. Pretty hot the couple of times I’ve seen her around on campus, but stuck up and standoffish. She was super frosty to me when I tried to say hi to her friends at one of the bars a few weeks ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” Jasminka asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…” Amanda took a deep breath and began.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Amanda had been a couple of beers and a few shots into her night with Wangari and her crew at one of the more popular bars on campus. The night was young, and Amanda didn’t believe in wasting away the gift of youth.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yo, Wangari,” Amanda slurred, “I’m gonna get some more.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah no worries,” Wangari responded, “don’t get any more for Joanna though, I think she’s gonna throw up soon.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As she was walking to the bar, Amanda saw the attractive shade of auburn that she would recognise anywhere. Like a moth drawn to a flame, the redhead didn’t even notice her legs taking a mind of their own in carrying her towards the table.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Barbara saw her first, and nodded to Hannah. The latter girl turned around with a look of surprise that quickly morphed to a frown. “What the hell do you want?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Amanda, even in her buzzed state, wasn’t surprised, and said, “Nice to see you too Han.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t ‘Han’ me,” Hannah retorted. “Only my friends get to call me that.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And we can’t be friends?” Amanda responded in faux dejection.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No. Fuck off.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Even Barbara was surprised at that one. But Amanda wasn’t deterred. No, she wasn’t called The Escalator by her friends for no reason. And it definitely wasn’t because she tried edibles a couple of times.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Woah, c’mon—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Excuse me,” the blonde on the table interjected, “my friend here has already expressed her explicit desire not to talk to you. You would do well to respect that.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Amanda barely spared her a glance. “Yes, excuse you, Cavendish. I wasn’t talking to you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana’s eyes hardened. “O’Neil,” she began in an icy voice that carried a tone of finality. It seemed that both of their reputations preceded them. “If you do not apologise to my friend and remove yourself right now, then we are going to have a problem.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Amanda’s green eyes met the frosty blue of the blonde’s for a tense moment that sobered up the redhead. Perhaps it was her fight or flight instincts triggering. She wasn’t sure why, but for the first time in a long time, Amanda chose the latter. She sighed and turned her gaze to the auburn girl who wore a scowl on her face.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Look, Hannah, I’m sor—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Stop,” Hannah interrupted. “I don’t want your apology. Just. Go. Away.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Now that had upset Amanda. She was going to apologise for something. Maybe it was for her rudeness, or maybe it was for the stupid line that had started this whole ordeal. She didn’t actually know. But it didn’t matter now, because Hannah didn’t care to know.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So, Amanda walked away and continued her night out, pretending that the girls she quipped with weren’t there. Pretending that she didn’t have the sour taste in her mouth that she had desperately tried to wash down with the bitterness of alcohol.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“... So that was that,” Amanda finished. “Although that’s probably just ‘cause of the whole Hannah situation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A shame that it went badly,” Jasminka remarked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, isn’t Diana in one of your classes, Jaz?” Amanda asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko immediately spun her head in the direction of Jasminka. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Jasminka nodded. “She studies biomedical engineering. Since I study biotech, we’re in a class together this semester.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s she like?” the brunette asked curiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jasminka shrugged. “Haven’t talked to her much. She’s polite, but doesn’t really go out of her way to make friends in that class. Diana’s very smart and answers a lot of questions in class.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko groaned. “Urgh, even hearing about her makes me dislike her more. And here I was hoping that she didn’t go to uni here.” She took a large swig of her cider.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, not someone you’d wanna be gal pals with for sure,” Amanda said. “Maybe their entire flat is just a den of bitches.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually,” Lotte said in a quiet voice as she pushed up her glasses, “I know Barbara, who is their third flatmate, from the Nightfall Society. She’s not that bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fuck? There’s a Nightfall Society?” Sucy asked with distaste. “And you go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lotte sunk into her seat, her cheeks crimson. Akko snaked one of her arms around her shoulders. “Don’t listen to her Lotte! Believe in your believing heart!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sucy scoffed, while Lotte muttered a thanks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To be fair,” Jasminka started, “Diana isn’t actually that bad. She just seems to be fine with not going out of her way to make friends, and was pretty friendly the few times I’ve talked to her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah but,” Akko rebutted, “she was super rude when she was talking about my game. I don’t need to know about the rest of her life to know that she’s kinda mean. Like, I said some things that I probably shouldn’t have, but the least she could’ve done is to at least try to be nicer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jasminka shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, didn’t you mention that you tried her game?” Amanda asked curiously. Akko nodded. “What was it like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dunno,” Akko shrugged. “It was super abstract and artsy and whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh, well I propose a toast,” Amanda raised her glass, “to not seeing Diana Cavendish on campus for the rest of your uni life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone clinked their glasses and drank—Akko did so more fervently than the others.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of the semester came and went for Akko in a blur of constant academic panic and anxiety. Honestly, how does anyone survive </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> much workload in such a short period of time? Sure, Akko wasn’t the most academically inclined person out there, but three assignments and two quizzes in the span of two weeks was simply overkill. It was as if the lecturers were conspiring to make her life miserable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And worst of all, those two weeks were the final weeks of the semester, which meant the time she had to study for her finals were </span>
  <em>
    <span>criminally</span>
  </em>
  <span> lacking. And four exams over three days? Surely, somebody deserved to be fired for this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So for those last weeks of the semester, she had to set aside everything that was dear to her—making games, playing games, anime, going to the pub more than once a week—just so she could focus on not failing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And her efforts paid off—kind of. Akko didn’t fail any of her courses, but she </span>
  <em>
    <span>barely</span>
  </em>
  <span> passed. She got a couple of final marks in the fifties, which made her feel like she had dodged a couple of bullets. She most </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t going to mention those to okaasan. She could already imagine the lecture she would receive about wasting their hard-earned money that they had so kindly used to put Akko into a prestigious university in England by not trying hard enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko tried, god damn it! But it just wasn’t easy. Not at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The one silver lining that Akko found in her results was that her highest mark was sixty-nine. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nice.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Amanda had given her a fistbump for that one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of her friends had gone home after their exams, as the six-week winter break was too good of an opportunity to see their families to pass up. But Akko remained with Amanda and Sucy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko’s reason had simply been that even if she went back to Japan, her parents would still be paying rent for the flat, so she might as well enjoy her time here. Plus, Akko was going to visit them at the end of the year anyway. Amanda didn’t really get along with her family, so she was happy to be staying in England. Sucy didn’t have a family to go back to. She had grown up in a large foster home, but she didn’t particularly feel attached to her foster family. Moreover, she had plenty of experiments that she wanted to run in the comfort of her room, so there was that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since both of her flatmates were away, Amanda often came over to Akko and Sucy’s flat and stayed over for the night. Sucy would often express annoyance at the presence of the redhead, but Akko knew that deep down, she actually appreciated the company.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>English summer wasn’t actually that bad, but maybe that was just global warming. Taking advantage of the sporadic sunshine that would reveal itself a couple of days each week, the trio had visited the town of Blackpool for a day during the break. They had spent time on the beach there, which Akko had been yearning to do since she hadn’t had many opportunities to visit English beaches since she started university.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps unsurprisingly, Sucy had covered herself in a thick layer of sunscreen, wore pitch black sunglasses and held an umbrella at all times to shield herself against the sun. She had no plans to swim, and had made sure that her friends were well aware of this fact. Akko would have believed it if Sucy had told her that she was a vampire. Amanda wore a bikini that had proudly showed off her abs, while Akko wore an old one piece with pink and white strips that honestly made her look a little childish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko enjoyed the feeling of warm sand underneath her feet as she explored the beach with Amanda. Sucy, on the other hand, sat on a towel on the sand and read The Dunwich Horror. A waste of an opportunity to have some fun, Akko thought, but she wasn’t going to judge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There had been a storm recently, so one part of the beach had been covered in seashells. After scavenging a while with the other beachgoers, Akko had found a beautiful spiral seashell that was perfectly white and almost shining under the light. She kept the seashell, along with a few other funky looking ones that she came across. Amanda and Sucy weren’t as interested in the spirally artefacts, however. The trio had visited the Black Pool Pleasure Beach, which was truly alive and vibrant at night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of their break had been relaxing, almost to the point of boredom. Not that Akko minded, as she figured that she deserved a good break before the next semester. There were nights of drunk speedrunning The Legend of Arcturus. There were nights of Truth-Or-Drink-Sucy’s-Concoction—in which they had learnt that Amanda had proudly lost her virginity at an age that Akko could count to, and that Sucy’s concoctions were </span>
  <em>
    <span>no joke.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko didn’t spend much time on making new games, as she felt a bit of residual self-doubt from her experience at the expo. But that was fine; she would sharpen her craft next semester with the introduction to game development course. And then she’d make a game that even </span>
  <em>
    <span>Diana</span>
  </em>
  <span> couldn’t help but admire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda and Sucy would have trouble admitting it, but Akko would happily say that it was one of the best times she had had in her life, just lazing around with friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was just one blemish, however.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akko was running. The wind rushed past her, cooling her as sweat dripped down the side of her face. Lively beats played through her earphones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She loved running around her university campus. She wasn’t sure if she would ever become accustomed to some of the brutalist architecture as well as the sandstone buildings that looked like cathedrals, but they had grown on her. Akko felt like she was at a home away from home. The campus was absurdly large, and anticipating the grand buildings appearing around corners was strangely exciting to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But what she found—nearly bumped into—around the corner was a different kind of excitement all together. One that she wasn’t sure if she welcomed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko gasped as she saw blonde and tea green appear from the corner that she was about to turn into, and quickly jumped out of the way to avoid a collision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This had resulted in an undignified shriek from the blonde, and an even less dignified stumble from the brunette that nearly caused her to dive face-first into concrete.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alrigh—” the blonde started, but gasped as her eyes met red. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Akko?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko was wide-eyed as she heard the soft voice that she could never forget, and looked up to a face that she recognised. At </span>
  <em>
    <span>Diana’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> face. Her heart was beating even faster than when she had been when she was running moments earlier. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What is she doing here?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s nearly seven. And it’s the holidays.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana was wearing a white shirt with a black jacket, blue jeans and black boots. Somehow, Akko thought the casual look suited her better than the more formal attire Diana had at the expo. She was only carrying a couple of books and nothing else. Not even a bag.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Diana asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yes,” Akko responded, slightly out of breath. “I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana didn’t seem to know what to do now. “Good,” she said softly. “Hm. Perhaps be more careful next time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Really?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko thought in annoyance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t want you to get hurt,” Diana continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” Akko blinked, not expecting polite concern. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Well, this is awkward, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I bid you farewell, then.” Diana said as she turned and walked away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko watched her retreating back with a strange fascination. She didn’t know what to make of the blonde. When she resumed running, she found that she couldn’t stop thinking about the terse encounter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was Diana actually trying to be nice with her remarks? Perhaps an olive branch? But Akko wasn’t sure if she could believe that. From her encounter with the other girl at the expo as well as what her friends had told her, Diana always wore a polite facade—one that was refined and polished. Simple niceties like wishing someone well didn’t mean anything when they were the default conversational entrees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana had not yet truly shown Akko any evidence that she didn’t see the brunette as someone who was below her, an uncultured child who Diana could pacify with a couple of nice words, then ignore perpetually. She was not someone who wore their heart on their sleeves like Akko did. A quick glance at Diana was not enough to gauge her true thoughts and feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Therefore, Akko wasn’t about to let her guard down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if for the rest of the run, she suffered a mini heart attack at the sight of any blonde hair.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Cause, I’m just a teenage dirtbag baby</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, I’m just a teenage dirtbag baby</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Listen to Iron Maiden baby</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>With me</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akko woke to her phone blaring with loud electric guitars and booming drums and a middle aged man yelling about being a teenage dirtbag, </span>
  <em>
    <span>baby.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She fumbled and slapped around for the source of the obnoxious noise to turn it off. It took several tries, but the whole ordeal somewhat woke her up. Akko knew herself well. She knew that if her alarm tone was too pleasant or too soft, she would just sleep right through her alarm. So she had asked Amanda for her recommendations, to which she received this one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a staple of American culture,” Amanda had said, “and it will wake you the fuck up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, it was either that or Amanda’s other recommendation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Get get get get</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Got got got got</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akko shuddered and shook her head. She strode to the bathroom and washed the remaining grogginess away from her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the first day of the new semester. Lotte had returned a few days earlier. Akko had thanked her profusely when she was bestowed with Finnish chocolate. But it was safe to say that while the chocolate was good, it didn’t taste as sweet as the Finnish girl’s personality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she walked out of her room, she smelled the welcoming aroma of pancakes. Akko smiled. Lotte was well and truly back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After finishing breakfast, Akko left the flat with her bag and phone. When she reached the campus, she realised that she had no idea what class she was supposed to be going to. She pulled out her phone to check the timetabling website.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>09:00 GAME2001 Lecture at IT Room 203</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akko suddenly perked up. This was it, the course that she had been waiting for. Introduction to Game Development—the first course that would actually be </span>
  <em>
    <span>relevant</span>
  </em>
  <span> to her future. She felt excitement bubbling through her. With a renewed enthusiasm, she hastened her steps towards the IT building. Yes, she should have done this unit last semester, but everyone goes at their own pace, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The IT building was fairly new, and looked as such with large tinted glass panels covering the sides of the building. Even its lecture rooms had motion tracking cameras so as to record classes with the lecturer at the centre. Akko couldn’t imagine how unsettling it would be to lecture in such a room, however.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since she had power walked the way there, for once in her life Akko was somewhat early. She walked in and sat just right of centre of the second row from the front. Of course, she was very excited for this class, but everyone knows that only nerds sat in the frontmost row.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was the only one there. Akko almost had the urge to double check the number of the lecture room—it wouldn’t have been the first time that she rocked up to the wrong room—when a woman, no older than mid-thirties, walked through the door. She had dark blue hair and thin-rimmed glasses that sat in front of red, almost raspberry eyes. She wore a navy blouse with grey trousers and sneakers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman saw the brunette and smiled kindly. “Hi,” she greeted as she walked towards Akko. “Are you here for the intro to game dev class?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup! You too?” Akko asked energetically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh thank god,” the woman said with visible relief, “I was afraid I was in the wrong room!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought so too, actually, so I’m actually kinda relieved that you’re here!” Akko said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your name?” The woman asked warmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Atsuko Kagari, but you can call me Akko!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice to meet you Akko,” the woman said, raising out her hand. “I’m Ursula Callistis, and I will be your lecturer this semester.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko’s jaw dropped. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A lecturer? But nothing about her says “lecturer!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> In Akko’s stupor, her hand moved on its own to shake the lecturer’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope you’ll find my class enjoyable and useful,” Ursula softly chuckled in modesty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I will!” This class was looking good already—the lecturer actually seemed like a human being for once, someone Akko could relate to. She felt drawn to her. Really, Akko was going to enjoy this class.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More students began walking in, and so Ursula moved to talk to them. It wasn’t a very big lecture room; a class of no more than eighty, surely. As usual, at least a quarter of students who are just scoping out the course would drop out before census date, so the actual class size was likely around sixty people. Perfect size for a cosy class with a friendly lecturer who wanted to know her students.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Akko fantasized about how amazing this semester will go for her, her eyes caught a pair of colours that pulled her out of her daydream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blonde and tea-green.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana Cavendish</span>
  </em>
  <span> just walked through the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko’s brain short-circuited. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This can’t be right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana Cavendish studied biomedical engineering, not video game development. There is no other reasonable explanation to Akko apart from that this must have been a mistake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But as Ursula approached Diana, the blonde smiled and conversed politely. She didn’t leave. Diana eventually sat at left of centre in the third row. As her blue eyes scanned the room, they landed on red ones staring back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a brief moment, Diana wore an expression of surprise, perhaps even shock, before quickly looking away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the class had started, Diana didn’t leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning everyone,” Ursula cleared her throat and began her introductory speech behind the podium at the front of the lecture room, “and welcome to intro to game development. This course will have technical and design components. For the technical component, we’ll delve into Unity as our modern game engine, which as some of you may know, is friendly to newcomers, so don’t be afraid if you don’t have prior experience. We will cover the fundamental concepts of solving vector and matrix calculations using the engine to simulate our virtual worlds, working with assets, physics and collision programming, some basic lighting and shading techniques and other important technical skills.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko snuck a glance at Diana, who seemed to be giving Ursula her full, undivided attention. The brunette felt some strange sense of inadequacy and turned back to the lecturer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ursula continued. “But perhaps more importantly, we will explore paradigms of video game design. Because while technical skills are important, having a workable process for conceiving, implementing and evaluating your games is an even more fundamental skill that good games rely on. This course will give you the chance to realise a game of your own through both technical skills and professional design practices. I look forward to introducing you all to the wonderful world of video game development!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Under normal circumstances, that would be the kind of speech that would overload the brunette with excitement and make her bounce on her chair, annoying her neighbours in the process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But this was not a normal circumstance. It was anything but.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana Cavendish was in the room. And she wasn’t about to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko was about to take a class on video game development, perhaps the most important course to her in her entire degree.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Diana Cavendish was going to be a part of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko couldn’t help but take one more look at the studious and strangely determined expression on Diana’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That toast,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko thought as she resigned herself to her fate, </span>
  <em>
    <span>did me absolutely no favours.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>diana: *exists*<br/>akko: :I<br/>akko: :o<br/>akko: :0<br/>akko: :O</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Is Pong Art?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Diana waved goodbye to her friends as she walked out of the door to their flat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Start of semesters were always a welcome to the Cavendish. They were marked by a refreshing atmosphere in the campus that even Diana couldn’t help but feel affected by. New semesters meant new classes, new timetables and new lecturers. The possibilities of what she might learn in her new classes were endless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But something about this semester was different. She had made a rather unorthodox choice of a unit. Of course, in most degrees, there were at least a few flexibilities which allowed the students to take units from outside their usual area of study, often for taste or personal interest. Diana had already taken electives, from computer science to bioethics. The former because she knew that programming skills were generally useful to an engineering degree, as well as for her personal </span>
  <em>
    <span>hobby.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The latter because as a future CEO, she should understand the ethical nuances of the endeavours pursued by her company. She had been surprised, however, by just how interesting and informative the subject of bioethics was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time, however, Diana wasn’t taking an elective that she could justify to herself as being an asset in the future. If anything, she would have called it a total waste of time and money. But something had compelled her to enrol into Introduction to Game Development.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If anyone had asked Diana, she would say that her break had been wonderful. The academic results she received were ones that students would kill for. She had lined up a scholarship-funded vacation research with Professor Meridies, a past lecturer who Diana had caught the eyes of. Her friends’ families lived near Luna Nova, so she saw them from time to time. Best of all, Diana didn’t have a reason to visit the Cavendish Manor, and not seeing her cousins and aunt had been a real cherry on top. So really, she had no right to complain about any part of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there was just one itch that the blonde couldn’t quite scratch. When she felt the need for creativity and expression to reflect on feelings and ideas that her mind would occasionally linger on, she would launch her trusty Unity editor on her laptop, anticipating a release of the creative kind. But what would follow is a truck load of </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana would stare into the screen of her laptop as if it were a white void that wasn’t malleable to her touch. Any idea that would come to her would be rebuffed and thoroughly ripped apart by a voice in her head—one that may or may not have sounded suspiciously like a brunette that she had been trying to forget about. Her staring would sometimes go on for hours, and in those nights Diana would experience each of the five stages of grief for what seemed like the loss of her artistic outlet. From heated frustration to gloomy acceptance and everything in between.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the first time in years that Diana had felt unsure of herself. She was beginning to question parts of herself that she had always taken for granted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Had her encounter with Akko really affected her that much? Diana didn’t want to admit it, because then it would feel too real, but she couldn’t deny what was happening to her. And try as she might, she couldn’t forget about the brunette. Especially not when Akko had almost literally bumped into her at some point during the break.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana was walking out of the engineering campus, towards her favourite cafe to sit down, have a bite and some tea and ruminate over the things Professor Meridies had said. Diana had been puzzled over certain claims made in the graduate text that she had been reading to supplement her vacation research project. The authors had claimed that a certain blood testing procedure had the potential to detect Alzheimer’s disease months, possibly even years before the early stage, but didn’t seem to point to any sources for this. Her supervisor had told her that such a procedure was likely based on detecting the leakage of neurofilament light chain proteins from the internal neuron skeleton into the cerebrospinal fluid, which was plausible, but the effectiveness of such a test was likely overstated by the authors.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The blonde was fascinated. Even if the claim was remotely true then it would be the case that—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Brunette hair.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Red eyes. Widened. Panicked.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That was all Diana could register as a girl just barely sidestepped to avoid a disastrous collision with her. She could not help but elicit an uncharacteristic shriek that aunt Daryl would have surely scolded her for. Diana had nearly dropped her heavy books, but the adrenaline in her veins made her clutch her arms—along with the books that were encased by them—close to her chest.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The other girl was hunched, no doubt recovering from nearly making out with the concrete.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Are you alrigh—” Diana started, before her brain clicked with recognition as the brunette girl turned her face towards her. A wave of anxiety spread throughout her as she fought against her own trembling limbs to keep her body and voice steady. “Akko?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A moment had passed, in which Diana saw that the brunette’s face was covered in sweat, almost panting with exhaustion, or adrenaline, or some combination of both. Her fringe clung to her forehead messily. She was wearing a simple grey sports shirt, the same maroon shorts she wore at the exhibition, and white sneakers that weren’t so white anymore—and probably hadn’t been for a long time. Akko didn’t answer her question, one that Diana supposed could have come off as an impolite greeting.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Are you alright?” Diana asked.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Y-yes,” Akko answered, a little out of breath. “I’m fine.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>With the brunette’s gaze on Diana, she felt like she was under scrutiny for a crime that she didn’t commit. Her confident demeanour was disintegrating every second she stood in front of those red spotlights. She was overwhelmed by an urge to leave.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Good,” Diana said. She prayed she didn’t come off in the wrong way. “Hm. Perhaps be more careful next time. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko looked as if she had been a little surprised by Diana’s words. “Thanks,” she said, still slightly out of breath.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I bid you farewell, then.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana’s brain worked on overdrive. What was Akko doing here in the break? She seemed like an international student, so why wasn’t she back home? And what went on behind Akko’s eyes in their momentary encounter? The girl wore her heart on her sleeves, as Diana had experienced firsthand. But in between Akko’s breaths, she couldn’t seem to gauge her thoughts. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana wondered if Akko still held a grudge against her for their strained encounter in the exhibition. Seeing Akko again made the memories of that time fresh in Diana’s mind, something that she did not welcome at all. In turn, it reminded Diana of her failures in her creative expression lately. The feelings of frustration. Of disappointment. Of inadequacy.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was then that Diana knew she needed to do something to break out of her funk.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that something was to enrol into the intro to game development course. Diana figured that this was an opportunity to prove that she was someone who was worthy of making games, and someone who made worthy games. That her philosophy was valid and that she had a right to create games that deserve respectful critique just like anyone else. And through this course, she would prove her own abilities to herself. It would get her out of her creative struggle as of late, and soon she would be back to writing meaningful experiences from which she would find solace and catharsis once again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, Diana had considered the possibility that Akko might be in that course. But that’s extremely unlikely. Her logic was as follows: Akko was clearly passionate about video games, so she probably studied an IT degree in game development. The typical pathway to completing that degree is to take the intro to game development course in the first semester of one’s second year. But Diana is enrolling into that course in second semester. Therefore, Diana would not see Akko in her class. Quod erat demonstrandum.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thus, due to the frustrations she had felt during the previous break from not being able to enjoy her beloved hobby as well as her optimism for returning to that said hobby, Diana felt a strange giddiness for her first game development lecture that she had rarely felt for her other classes in the past. She walked with a slight bounce in her step that even she herself did not notice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she walked into the lecture room, the lecturer happened to have been conversing with some students near the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh hi,” the blue-haired woman greeted. “Are you here for the intro to game dev lecture?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana smiled politely and said, “Yes I am. My name is Diana Cavendish. You must be our lecturer, Ursula Callistis?” She offered her hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The lecturer took her hand with a firm grip and shook. “Wow, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cavendish?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Who knows my name? I feel humbled,” the woman said with a kind smile. “I look forward to having you in my class, Diana.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana felt a little awkward with being recognised, but she supposed it was something that she should get used to sooner or later. She could have sworn that there was a twinkle in Ursula’s eyes, a knowing look of some kind, but it wasn’t something that she could just ask.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took a seat in the third row from the front. Contrary to what most people would have thought of Diana, she avoided sitting at the front. The feeling of other students’ eyes on her back wasn’t one that she wanted to get used to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After taking out her notebook and pen, she scanned the room. Diana didn’t expect to recognise anyone, since she didn’t know anyone who studied game dev—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s eyes widened in a mixture of shock and fright.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once again, she found herself under the scrutiny of red spotlights of the girl named </span>
  <em>
    <span>Atsuko Kagari.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana quickly turned away and started staring down the back of the dress that some girl in front of her was wearing. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How can she be here? But this doesn’t make any sense at all!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana’s thoughts ran a mile a minute. She didn’t even realise that Ursula had begun her welcoming speech.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Without thinking about what she was doing, Diana accidentally facepalmed herself with enough velocity to qualify it as a slap. The sound reverberated across the room. Diana cringed and looked up, seeing that Ursula, Akko and about half a dozen students had turned to look at her questioningly. Diana sunk into her seat as Ursula continued the lecture.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What have I done to deserve this?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the lecture was rather uneventful. At some point, she had to summon her remaining willpower to avoid throwing glances at the back of Akko’s head every few minutes. The lecture itself was a typical cookie-cutter introductory lecture that outlined the things that they were going to study during the semester, assessments, where to find resources, and so forth. Diana was already on top of this, as she had read through the course outline beforehand. Ursula seemed to be new at lecturing, as at times she seemed more nervous and awkward than the students who had conversed with her before the lecture.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the first lecture ended, Diana quickly shoved her notebook and pen into her bag. When she glanced in Akko’s direction, she saw the brunette gazing back with an unsure look in her eyes, as if contemplating whether she should say acknowledge or ignore Diana’s presence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana, however, found the thought of talking to Akko terrifying, so she stood and walked briskly towards the exit. She had even forgotten to thank the lecturer, which she usually did. But of course, desperate times call for desperate measures. An acceptable sacrifice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Diana walked towards her following lecture, she pondered on the merits of dropping out of the game dev course. It was just an elective, and if every class was going to be awkward due to a regrettable past she shared with Akko, then maybe she should just take the path of least resistance and take something else instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But something about the thought of giving up because of the presence of a certain brunette seemed unacceptable. Diana wasn’t someone who gave up. She rose above adversities. She didn’t stop just because something—or </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone,</span>
  </em>
  <span> in this case—made her uncomfortable. If she capitulated now and admitted defeat, what kind of a precedence is she setting herself for the future? When she takes over Cavendish Life Technologies as CEO, she would surely meet and work with people who she despised. Her aunt and cousins were people who she was bound by blood, yet she had to grit her teeth and bear their unpleasantness. So to Diana, a seasoned veteran at dealing with adversities, Akko being in the class that she wanted to take was only a mild unpleasantry at worst.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana could do this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She would carry herself like the Cavendish she was and march forward unwaveringly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And once she got to the top of that mountain, she would look down to see just another hill that she had conquered in a long line of hills.</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Scoff at me all you want,” Barbara said with faux indignance, “but my god some of the guys at Nightfall Soc are </span>
  <em>
    <span>so hot!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah rolled her eyes. “I’m not falling for </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> one again. The last time you got me to go with you, all you guys did was show off each other’s fanfics and art. You guys are so nerdy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana took a sip from her wine glass. Red Bordeaux. Not bad at all, but she had never quite been a wine person. Nevertheless, she had grown accustomed to drinking wine with the grace and elegance of a professional aristocrat from the countless balls and parties Daryl would force her to attend. “You must learn how to carry yourself like the British nobility you are,” Daryl would say, “or you’ll just end up as another insignificant, powerless commoner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana had never cared for Daryl’s ingrained sense of aristocracy. She just relented and went along as the path of least resistance. She should have known that it wouldn’t make her aunt any more bearable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So Hannah,” Diana began, “how were your classes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the Friday evening of the first week. Her flatmates had started a ritual the previous year where at the end of the first week of classes of every semester, they would have a night in their flat where they’d drink wine and just talk about their experiences, the people they met—anything, really.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A couple bottles of wine sat in front of them. This time, as it was Barbara’s turn to decide, she had settled on bottles of red and white Bordeaux. Only the red Bordeaux was opened, with only less than half of the bottle left. Soft pop music played from the television in the background—Barbara’s Taylor Swift and Mariah Carey playlist, it seemed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah they were alright,” Hannah answered. “We’re both taking a unit on sexuality in films.” She wiggled her eyebrows at Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana stared at the auburn-haired girl. She wasn’t a prude! She just didn’t think it was appropriate to be so open with such private and personal matters. “You jest,” she began, “but it genuinely sounds like a fascinating subject.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well yeah,” Hannah said, “it’s not often you get to see boobs on giant lecture screens. Since the room has two screens side-by-side, you get to see </span>
  <em>
    <span>double.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh god, that reminds me,” Barbara spoke up, “I took this linguistics elective back in first year. The lecturer shoved one of those cameras—entroscope?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Endoscope?” Diana suggested.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah that—into their throat. We got to see how her insides moved as she made weird sounds.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A pause.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it weird that I kinda want to take that class now?” Hannah asked as she downed the rest of her glass. She poured herself more of the red Bordeaux.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is Amanda rubbing off on you?” Barbara teased.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah’s expression morphed to one of disgust. “Gross Barbs, don’t even joke about that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, Han.” Barbara popped a piece of smoked salmon into her mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is Amanda still giving you a hard time, Hannah?” Diana asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde was amused by the plethora of expressions that had transitioned over Hannah’s face. “Well,” Hannah sighed, “I don’t think so? Honestly, it’s just been awkward.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana quirked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah took a sip of her wine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“So, as you can see in this scene,” the lecturer began, pointing to breasts that appeared on the massive screen, “the actor’s breasts are at the centre of which vector lines are pointed towards. So it’s clear that those are the central focus of the shot. But in the background, we see that the genitalia of the male actor is almost blurred. This is an example of the so-called male gaze, and an unsubtle one at that.” Some students chuckled at the lecturer’s deadpan.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“But as critics,” the lecturer continued, “we must ask ourselves this: does this filmmaker’s preference for the female anatomy contribute to any themes of the work? Is this at all substantial? Of course not. The male gaze is not only used to objectify the female character, but also to the detriment of the film itself.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hannah looked across the room and found the redhead. She didn’t exactly know why her own non-male gaze directed that way. There were no vector lines that her eyes had followed to find the redhead.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Perhaps Hannah had expected to feel something. A provocation, maybe. Amanda was known for her risque humour, and Hannah had been subjected to it more than once. A wiggle of eyebrows in her direction? Or a wink?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But instead, Hannah had found nothing. Amanda gazed straight ahead at one of the lecture screens. She looked bored, with her chin resting on her right palm. Not a single hint of juvenile amusement. It was as if she was looking past the screen and into a void.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Was it disappointment that Hannah was feeling? That can’t be right, because she had been praying for the redhead to stop looking at her. And now that she had stopped, Hannah felt a little less significant for some reason.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Amanda had never truly crossed the line. She prodded and poked, but from a distance. That distance, Hannah now understood, was Amanda’s respect. Strange as it seemed.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The redhead hadn’t even acknowledged that Hannah was in her class. The few times they were within proximity of one another, Amanda would spare her a momentary glance before turning elsewhere.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hannah once overheard Wangari say to her friend, “Hey. Look. It’s Hannah.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“So?” Amanda asked, in a nonchalant tone that Hannah didn’t think was possible from the other girl.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Uh. You don’t want to say anything?” Wangari was clearly as surprised as Hannah had been.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not really. It’s not like we’re friends or anything.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hannah huffed. Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be? She thought. The silent treatment.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The “Amanda situation” didn’t go away. It merely went from offhand teasing to frosty absolute zero. And so Hannah’s resentment did not subside.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She sighed, and turned her attention back to her lecturer.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... so that’s what I mean,” Hannah finished her glass. “Like, what am I even supposed to do? Do I vent on her ass, and give her more teasing ammunition? Or do I just pretend that this whole thing with Amanda didn’t happen?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly,” Diana started, “it sounds like the situation has sorted itself out. Amanda is no longer bothering you, so you can attend your classes with the comforting knowledge that you’ll be left in peace.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but the awkwardness is still there.” Hannah stared at her empty glass as she spoke. “Do you know the feeling of being forced to be around someone who you’ve had an awful experience with? Like…” Hannah ruminated for a moment. “Like not knowing how to treat the other person? Not knowing how to move forward from here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a strangely heavy silence. Feeling awkward, Barbara opened the bottle of white Bordeaux and poured some of its contents into herself and Hannah’s glasses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually,” Diana started, with an unfamiliar tentativeness to her voice, “I do know that feeling.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh god, you’re right!” Barbara said as she lightly smacked the table with the palm of her hand. “Your aunt is a massive cun—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I don’t mean her, Barbara.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah and Barbara looked at each other in confusion. “Then who?” the former asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The girl who I met in the indie game exhibition.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, do you know her?” Barbara asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s in my…” At that moment, it dawned on Diana that she had not yet told her friends that she was taking a game development unit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... introduction to game development course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What!?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hannah shrieked. Diana could have sworn that her eardrums popped. “You’re doing a game development course?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, my apologies. I forgot to mention that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And that girl is in your class?” Barbara asked, suddenly intrigued by the turn of events.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, rather unfortunately. I had been confident when I had chosen that unit that she wouldn’t be there, but alas here we are.” Diana gestured at nothing in particular.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Has she been giving you a hard time in class?” Hannah asked, clearly ready to violate Geneva conventions and commit war crimes at will for her friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… wouldn’t exactly say that she has been giving me problems. But being in the same class has been a rather awkward ordeal.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s friends looked at her expectantly. She sighed and sipped her wine. “Well…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t want to tell you what a game is. It can mean a lot of things to different people,” Ursula lectured. “So I want to hear it from you guys. Any ideas?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>In her preferred habitat, Diana naturally raised her hand.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What do you think, Diana?” Ursula asked.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“A game is fundamentally an art form,” Diana stated confidently. “At its core, the developer is an artist who expresses ideas and themes through their game. The relationship between the developer and their game is not unlike that between a writer and their novel or a painter and their artwork.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s,” Ursula paused to ponder, “a very interesting interpretation of video game development. Of course, games can evoke powerful emotional responses from its players, so it’s natural to understand video games as an art. Thank you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana was slightly put off by Ursula’s reception of her ideas. Her response had been as if she didn’t completely agree with Diana’s obviously self-evident statement.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Another hand rose.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes, Akko?” Ursula prompted.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana’s attention snapped back from her thoughts to the class.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“A game is something made with the intention that you can have fun with,” Akko declared, “A game usually has rules that the player learns, so they know what they can and can’t do to reach some… objective? Objective!.” Akko looked as if she congratulated herself mentally. “A lot of the time, they also have a world for the player to follow the rules in. And by mashing together these rules and the story, you get something that people can get lost and have fun in!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ursula smiled politely. “You’re not wrong, Akko. Games are fundamentally really just a set of rules for which there’s an objective to accomplish. Whether that’s solving puzzles or getting high scores. While not every game has a narrative, even the most minimal games will often have at least something.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana saw Akko shooting her a smug look. Did the girl really not notice that the lecturer hadn’t fully agreed with either of them? She felt a flare of indignance and could not stop herself from raising her hand up again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As there were no other hands up, Ursula had no choice but to awkwardly ask, “Um, yes, Diana?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is the artistic understanding of video games not sufficiently exhaustive and more accurate?” Diana asked rhetorically. “Of course, rules are an inherent part of games, but games are able to capture feelings that the rigidness of rules cannot. It is impossible to, say, properly explore the themes of loss and loneliness using a system of rules alone. As such themes are able to be successfully explored in games, surely the conclusion we should draw is that video games are art?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You are definitely capturing a large part of what video games are,” Ursula responded kindly, “but I don’t believe that the interpretation of games as purely art is actually exhaustive. For example, what about Pong?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana blinked. Pong? Of course that’s a game, she thought, but is it art? As much as she didn’t want to, she couldn’t help but admit that Pong, which was undoubtedly a game, was not art. At least not obviously. It did not explore any real emotions or themes, unless you count the competitive rush of decimating your opponents a deeply meaningful expression. To argue that Pong is art is to also argue that table tennis is art, which might be true under a very loose and elusive definition, but that would make Diana seem really desperate.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes, sorry,” Diana conceded. “You are right. My interpretation was not exhaustive.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She dared to look in the direction of the brunette, and saw a triumphant smile that Diana wanted to wipe off.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh no, please don’t apologise!” Ursula said modestly. “The point of being here is to learn, and rethinking our preconceived ideas is a part of that.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“To be clear,” the blue-haired lecturer continued, “you’re not actually wrong. It’s just that I’m not sure whether the artistic interpretation of games can truly be exhaustive, especially with the often confusing definitions of art. But of course, the understanding of games as just rules with a narrative isn’t enough either. After all, we also need to account for games that are atmospheric and about experiencing, rather than doing. Games like Dear Esther and The Beginner’s Guide are great examples.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ursula’s recognition of walking simulators consoled Diana a little bit. She noticed that Akko was no longer watching her, but rather looking at Ursula with a puzzled expression. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“But really, exhaustiveness isn’t what we’re after,” Ursula continued, “after all, a truly exhaustive definition of video games would be something along the lines of, ‘programs which allow users to digitally manipulate images on a screen through inputs’. But that would be a dumb definition, because it would include word processors, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Some students in the audience chuckled and nodded.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Exactly. But actually, what Diana and Akko have provided us is more than what I would have given if one of you had asked me instead. Each of their ideas are perfect halves that fit together. If you marry their distinct yet complementary interpretations of what games are, then you get a much better definition of what a video game is. The beautiful idea that video games can capture both the excitement and joy of being presented with a system made by its developers, and the abstract and meaningful themes imbued into that system which provide players with personal experiences.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana nodded. What Ursula had said made sense. She supposed that she still had a lot to learn about not just video game development, but also about games in general. She glanced at Akko again, and it seemed that she wore a thoughtful expression on her face. Diana hoped that Akko felt the same.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The lecture continued after that.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh god,” Hannah said with distaste. “She sounds obnoxious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Her presence is consistently either awkward or irritating,” Diana said, “but she seems harmless, so for the most part I can ignore her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s her name?” Barbara asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Atsuko Kagari.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Atsuko… Kagari… huh,” the raven-haired girl repeated to herself in deep thought. “Kagari… where have I heard that before? Atsu—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barbara’s eyes widened, and shrieked </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Akko?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the second time that night, Diana felt as though her eardrums popped—she should remember to book a hearing check at some point. After she recovered, she asked, “Do you know her, Barbara?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barbara nodded. “Yeah. I’ve met her once at Nightfall Soc. One of her flatmates, Lotte, is a regular. She writes great fanfics.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Akko writes Nightfall fanfiction?” Diana asked in surprise, but she supposed she really didn’t know that much about Akko.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no, I meant Lotte. Akko only came to Nightfall Soc once because Lotte had asked her to,” Barbara explained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s she like?” Hannah asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barbara sipped her white Bordeaux before answering. “I thought Akko was a bit of a clumsy dimwit. But eh,” Barbara struggled, “she was alright. She was too much for me though. I have no idea how Lotte lives with her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana somehow found that funny. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That sounds like Akko.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “My point precisely. Akko doesn’t seem like a bad person, but just like in Hannah’s case with Amanda, her presence is a little uncomfortable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, that really sucks huh?” Hannah empathised. “You’re right. You get what I’m going through, and I totally get you too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks Hannah, I really appreciated it,” Diana responded. Hannah raised her glass, and on instinct, the other two girls clinked their glasses and drank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait,” Barbara realised after taking her sip, “what did we just drink to?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence. The three girls looked at each other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… must admit, I have no idea,” Diana said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah me neither,” Hannah shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what? Fuck it,” Barbara said out of nowhere as she nearly slammed her glass onto the table. Diana nearly jumped while Hannah wondered if her best friend had too much to drink. “Life is too short to deal with bullshit drama. You girls are young and free! Why should you guys be bogged down by petting drama?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah!” Hannah suddenly felt energised by Barbara’s outburst. “You’re right. Fuck this!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, fuck that!” Barbara reiterated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana gazed between the two of her friends in puzzlement. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Next time, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Diana thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m going to impose a one bottle limit.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s make a pact,” Barbara declared, “that you guys are going to sort out your classmate troubles so you can live out the rest of your uni lives in peaceful bliss!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What the fuck?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hannah exclaimed. Diana had to agree with that sentiment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, Han! Once you actually deal with this Amanda mess, you might </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> enjoy sex class!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay don’t ever call that class </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> again,” Hannah said as she cringed, then sighed. “But this is unfair, you have it easy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but this isn’t about me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana swished the wine in her glass. “I guess Barbara has a point. It would be nice not to have to deal with these troublesome distractions that get in the way of an otherwise enjoyable class.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah sighed and capitulated to her best friend’s suggestion. “Alright fine, but it’s probably only because I’m like nearly three glasses in. Fuck it, let’s go bitches!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana cringed at her friend’s profanities and raised her for the second time that night, as did her flatmates, and drank the rest of her glass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah coughed. “Urgh. I’m gonna be sick in the morning. I think it’s time to turn in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The auburn-haired girl nearly tripped over the legs of her chair as she tried to stand up.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>wow my fic has a lot of alcohol in it</p>
<p>sure hope it says nothing about me haha... ha...</p>
<p>Due to work, I'm going to try my best to adhere to one chapter update a week! I thank you for your patience &lt;3</p>
<p>(updating this fic—what a way to celebrate my birthday hehe)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Spherical Pigeon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“... and then the idiot’s fireproof apparatus caught on fire,” Sucy snickered, barely containing what would have been an unholy cackle that even seasoned exorcists would run away from. “Everyone had to evacuate from the building. His embarrassment was </span>
  <em>
    <span>delicious.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting around tables that had been moved together to fit them, Akko and her friends gave the chemical engineer concerned looks. Constanze raised her notepad: </span>
  <em>
    <span>what did he do to you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sucy shrugged. “Nothing. He just looked annoying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko shivered at the thought of what could happen to her if she ever crossed her friend—</span>
  <em>
    <span>actually, how am I still alive?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She pondered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A waitress walked up to their table. “Hi, are you guys ready to order?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone nodded. They understood the menu of the Thai restaurant as if it were the back of their hands. They had frequented the restaurant regularly since last year, but this semester all the girls had an hour lunch break during Wednesdays, so eating here had become something of a weekly ritual. They had known what to order before they even stepped foot into the place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko, Amanda and Sucy opted for pad kee mao—sweet, spicy and exotic. Lotte and Constanze ordered the pad thai this week. You could never go wrong with pad thai, and the girls had ordered curries last week. Jasminka asked for the thai fried rice. Her reasoning was that it had the biggest portion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one ordered the pad see ew, however. Something that Sucy had made sure her friends would never order the first time she tagged along with the rest of the crew.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hi, what would you like to order?” the waitress asked with her notepad and pen at the ready.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yellow curry with beef,” Amanda said.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Pad kee mao with tofu,” Sucy said.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Um,” Akko hummed, still eyeing the menu, “let’s see, uh…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The waitress looked expectantly while the rest of the table collectively facepalmed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dude,” Amanda started, “we had like five minutes to decide, and you still don’t know?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wait gimme a sec,” Akko said, with her finger on her chin as if perplexing over the abc conjecture. “Okay!” she suddenly exclaimed, making the poor waitress jump. “I’d like a pad see—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At that exact moment, Sucy smacked the menu out of Akko’s hands and onto the table with overwhelming force.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh no you fucking don’t,” Sucy said with a tone that made clear the gravity of the brunette’s uncultured ways. She pierced into Akko’s soul with her one visible eye, and said, “pad see ew is just chickenshit pad kee mao,” before turning to the frightened waitress. “She was confused. Get her a pad kee mao with—” Sucy glanced at Akko for a split second “—chicken.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Amanda, who had watched the scene unfold in front of her with great amusement, was now intrigued. “Actually, forget what I said. I want a pad kee mao with beef.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>After the waitress received the orders from the rest of their friends, she promptly left—as one often had the urge to do after witnessing Sucy’s terrifying presence.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You better not have ordered that shit before,” Sucy said.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko gulped. “N-no! Of course not!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She was wise to not admit the truth.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Really, Akko should have thanked her, because since then she almost always ordered the spicy dish—even when Sucy wasn’t around. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I should try making it at home, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akko thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh my god yes! I could even surprise Sucy with it—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you giggling at?” Sucy asked suspiciously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, nothing!” Akko unconvincingly lied. Sucy didn’t press her, figuring that Akko was probably laughing at some dumb meme that she suddenly remembered or something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Amanda wiggled her eyebrows. “How’s the blonde situation?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko wrinkled her face. “Urgh, why did you have to remind me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Cause I’m your friend and thus I take joy in your suffering.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko jokingly punched Amanda on the shoulder. “Yeah, she’s pretty annoying. She always acts like a big know-it-all. It drives me crazy! Like just the other day in the tutorial labs, she finished the exercises and asked Ursula for more. Who does that!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I heard she’s a hard worker,” Lotte said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean if you work hard then whatever, good for you,” Akko dismissed. “But doing stuff like that just makes other people feel bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Feels dude,” Amanda said as she balanced on the hindlegs of her chair. “That sounds pretty annoying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think she intends it,” Jasminka offered. “I’ve always gotten the sense that Diana’s only there for her courses and doesn’t care too much about what others thought of her, but she has never put anyone down”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure would be nice if she was a little considerate for others, you know?” Akko shrugged. “Anyway. How’s Hannah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I don’t know,” Amanda poured herself a glass of water and drank. “She’s not giving me these dirty looks anymore. Her friend Barbara stopped ages ago too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lotte perked up at the mention of the raven-haired Nightfall lover’s game. “Oh? That’s good to hear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amanda shrugged. “It’s just kinda awkward now. But that’s better than straight up hostility, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least Hannah isn’t annoying in your class,” Akko remarked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Speaking of that class, I’m kinda disappointed,” Amanda said. “I thought I’d have a great time seeing nude people on giant screens but it just kinda gets boring once you’ve seen it once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” Sucy snarked. “I really feel bad for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not all of us enjoy our units as much as you do, Suce,” Amanda responded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before anyone could say anything else, the girls received their dishes and began eating.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akko said goodbye to her friends as she took a turn toward the IT building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she walked towards her lecture room, she saw a familiar blonde waiting outside. Akko suddenly felt a wave of awkwardness. Her legs mechanically took her in the direction of the door—and Diana—as her mind internally raced to figure out how she should react. Should she greet her? Ignore her? Etiquette had never been one of Akko’s strong points.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana must have heard Akko’s footsteps, as she looked up from her notebook and saw Akko. She briefly wore a look of tension before her expression returned to neutrality. Then, Diana nodded at Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana. Nodded. At. Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko’s brain had been in overdrive trying to figure out how to acknowledge or not acknowledge the blonde, but now it completely short circuited and Akko looked straight ahead to the door past the blonde.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana seemed to suddenly experience a premonition as she rushed out, “Akko, wait—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Akko didn’t listen, because she was already experiencing sensory overload, having been pushed past the edge by the small nod from the blonde that marked the very first time the two had interacted during that semester.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko walked past Diana and past the door that she pushed open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... and because we have shown that the three-satisfiability problem reduces to the circuit satisfiability problem using these encodings, it means that three-satisfiability is NP-complete—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the door to the lecture room was close to the podium, all eyes—including the lecturer’s—were on her. Akko stood there. Petrified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello there,” the lecturer greeted, clearly amused. “Can I interest you in my fine collection of nondeterministic polynomial-time problems?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sumimasen, s-shitsureishimasu!” Akko squeaked out in embarrassment as she all but dashed out of the room. Before the door swung shut, she heard echoes of laughter that fueled the beet-red blush Akko wore on her cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I tried to warn you,” Diana said with a hint of pity.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should have tackled me,” Akko spoke without much thought, still drowning in distilled embarrassment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana raised an eyebrow and looked at Akko questioningly. “Surely, a tackle would have entailed more pain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko shrugged as she pulled out her water bottle and swigged to soothe her dry mouth. She nearly dropped the bottle during the process. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve after she finished.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Embarrassing herself was bad, but Akko had felt even worse since she had done so in front of Diana.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko and Diana stood in front of the lecture room awkwardly as they waited for the other lecture to end. Akko felt relief from the awkward atmosphere as students started flooding out from the door, only to feel another surge of embarrassment as they gave her looks of amusement. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why does this always happen to me?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko asked internally. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why can’t it happen to Diana?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko giggled to herself at the thought of Diana doing something—anything—embarrassing. It didn’t even have to be anything stupid; just the thought of the seemingly perfect girl showing the slightest clumsiness was inherently funny. Almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>cute.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana looked at Akko as if she grew two heads before walking into the lecture room. Akko followed shortly after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon, her classmates and Ursula entered the room, and the lecture started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about doing matrix computations to transform virtual objects in three-dimensional space. Akko was surprised that the matrix stuff she learnt in first year was actually somewhat relevant to her, but that surprise turned into worry as she realised that she really didn’t remember much from first year. Maybe she repressed her memories of matrices due to the absolute </span>
  <em>
    <span>bloodbath</span>
  </em>
  <span> of an exam her first year linear algebra lecturer wrote. She was surprised she didn’t fail that, even though she didn’t even attempt half of the questions in that exam. The black magic of scaling, she supposed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Ursula was going through the basics of linear algebra, so Akko relaxed a little as she took down some notes.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ursula.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What a great lecturer!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko praised internally. She had never had a lecturer so friendly and so willing to converse with Akko. She even knew of Chariot!</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As Akko walked towards the door to the lecture room, she saw the blue-haired woman appear from another corner.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hi, Ursula!” Akko chirped with a smile.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ursula nearly jumped at the unexpectedly enthusiastic greeting. Her face quickly recovered to a kind smile and said, “Oh, morning, Ak—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was then that the French woman saw what her student was wearing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A Shiny Chariot T-shirt.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ursula coughed into her fist. “Sorry, I mean, good morning, Akko.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko looked at her teacher in concern. “Are you alright?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes! I’m fine, thank you,” Ursula reassured. “So… you’ve played The Legend of Arcturus games?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Huh!?” Akko exclaimed in shock. “How did you know? Are you a psychic?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What had surprised Ursula wasn’t the fact that her eccentric student asked her whether she was a psychic, but rather the earnestness of which the question was posed. She nodded at her student’s shirt.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“O-oh!” Akko laughed nervously in her embarrassment. “Of course! I was just kidding!” Then, she remembered the question. “I absolutely love The Legend of Arcturus—it’s my favourite game of all time! It basically made my childhood. But only the first game, though. I don’t really like the later games.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ursula seemed slightly agitated. “I’m glad you enjoyed the first game.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah. That’s why I’m here, actually,” Akko said with stars in her eyes. “I want to be an indie game developer just like Chariot. I want to give the joy I felt from playing their game to other people.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well,” Ursula started, with a strained smile, “I’m glad that the game brought you here. I’m sure Chariot would be proud.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Do you know them?” Akko asked with hope in her eyes and voice.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I…” Ursula didn’t know how to answer. “I knew them, yes.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko’s jaw dropped. “No… no way. You’re not kidding me, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, I’m telling the truth.” She wasn’t. “You could say that we went to school together. But I haven’t talked to them in a very long time.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wow!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko had tried to get more out of Ursula about Chariot, but the woman seemed to avoid giving any concrete answers. She supposed that Ursula just simply wasn’t very close to Chariot. But nevertheless, knowing someone who knew Chariot was something that Akko was astonished by. She felt closer to Chariot than ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... And with today’s technical stuff out of the way, I want to start talking about your major work for the semester,” Ursula spoke from behind the podium.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko perked up. She had known that there would be a major project in this course where students had to design and develop a game from scratch. She had been excited at the prospect, partially because it would be the first game she would make as a part of her formal training, but also because she had been in a slump with regards to creating games since the expo. This would be the perfect opportunity for her to get back into the </span>
  <em>
    <span>game.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“The project will be collaborative. When you’re working in your developer careers, you’ll often find yourself in environments where you must deliver a game by a deadline while working with a team.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko was </span>
  <em>
    <span>excited.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She had been yearning for an opportunity to create something with another person, someone else who was just as passionate about video games as she was. She started bouncing on her seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ursula continued, “For this course, you will be working with just another student to design and create a game that will be due in week thirteen. There will be no constraints or prompts on what your game will be about—okay maybe not anything not safe for work, but you get the idea. You can let your imaginations run wild.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko simply couldn’t wait. She scanned across the room, trying to see who she might want to pair up with. There were just so many possibilities!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your partner has been chosen for you,” Ursula said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “This slide here has the pairs that you’ll be working with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The slide on the large lecture screen had a large table with two columns and around thirty or so rows. Akko frantically scanned her eyes across the entries for her name. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wait,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko panicked after having a quick skim over the slide, </span>
  <em>
    <span>my name isn’t on here! This must be a mistake.</span>
  </em>
  <span> So, Akko looked over the entries again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, there it is. Okay, then my partner is…</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>| Atsuko Kagari | Diana Cavendish |</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko blinked several times and rubbed her eyes vigorously. But alas, the text on the giant screen didn’t change.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No fucking way,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko couldn’t believe her luck—or the lack thereof. She was pretty mediocre at maths, but she guessed that her chances of landing the Cavendish girl as her partner was around 1/60, which is </span>
  <em>
    <span>basically</span>
  </em>
  <span> zero! The universe must have had it out for her. No, surely not. She had terrible luck, but this felt too surreal. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This… couldn’t have been random,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought in frustration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She could feel her palms sweat as she turned towards Diana. The blonde seemed to also be in a similar shock. Her eyes stared widely at the giant screen. A moment later, their gazes met. Unlike the many times before in which their eyes would only meet momentarily before both of them turned to look elsewhere, they held their gazes this time. They had to acknowledge each other now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With the time remaining, please introduce yourselves to your partners,” Ursula said encouragingly. “Discuss why you’re taking this course, what kind of games you’ll make, your hobbies. But most importantly, make friends!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their gazes were still unbroken.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What do I do!?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko thought frantically. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Do I get up and go to her or do I wait for her to come to me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko thought, suddenly realising something. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is just like that documentary on wolves that we watched while drunk.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Indeed, they played a drinking game at Amanda’s flat where they drank every time a wolf howled. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I need to assert my dominance as the alpha!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment more of awkward staring, Diana stood up from her seat, grabbed her belongings and walked around to Akko. She respectfully left an empty seat between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Akko,” Diana greeted. It was a very neutral greeting, doing nothing to ease the awkward tension between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Akko responded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Diana began, not quite knowing what to say. “This is quite a development.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I swear this can’t just be a coincidence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm,” Diana hummed, looking like she was in deep thought. “What are the marks for your previous semesters like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brunette raised an eyebrow. “Why would I tell you that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a suspicion,” Diana explained cooly, “that the pairs are determined such that the average of their weighted average marks from their previous studies are as close as possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko cocked her head. “Why would that be the case?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe some lecturers do this so as to inflate the average course marks of their students, as every group would be guaranteed to have at least one student who would be capable in ensuring the quality of the project.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko laughed at the absurdity. “Well for that to be true, you’d probably need to have, like, high nineties for all of your previous semesters!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana didn’t even blink as she raised a single eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko stopped laughing. “No, you’re kidding.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brunette waited for the punchline that never came. “That… that’s not possible!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Akko said in denial as she shook her head, “you’re lying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana folded her arms. “Akko. Do I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> look like someone who would lie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko admitted internally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course not.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She had felt the blunt force of Diana’s honesty once before. “Huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps Diana had expected Akko to say something more, but the awkward silence that followed stretched for much longer than what Diana could tolerate. “So, perhaps we should have the icebreaker that Ursula suggested?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Akko responded nonchalantly. “Why are you taking this course? Don’t you study bio...mechanical—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Biomedical engineering,” Diana corrected. “And it’s simply because I need to satisfy my credit point limit with electives.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but why </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> course in particular?” Akko asked “You could have chosen literally anything else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana narrowed her eyes at the brunette. “Do you not wish for me to be here?” she asked coldly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Akko responded in an annoyed tone, “I’m asking </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> you picked this class.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I find game development interesting and desire to learn more about it,” Diana answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you don’t plan on becoming a game dev?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. It’s just a hobby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko was scandalised. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s even worse,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She literally has no reason to be here! She could have just as easily done something else and I wouldn’t have had to be partnered with her!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko didn’t know what else to ask Diana. She wasn’t really interested in the blonde’s life, so she took her water bottle out of her bag and took a long sip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana awkwardly watched as the brunette drank. “What about you? Why are you taking this course?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I wanna be an indie game dev.” Akko answered simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“From my understanding, students who study video game development tend to take this unit in semester one,” Diana remarked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko nearly dropped her water bottle as she was putting it back into her bag. “I-I just feel like taking it this semester,” Akko stammered. “It’s easier that way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> easier this way, since it meant that Akko’s senior units would be in an unorthodox order. Diana knew this, but didn’t push her. “I see,” she said. “And why do you want to become an indie game developer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko’s eyes twinkled. She loved explaining her passion—regardless of who she was explaining it to—because it always involved mentioning her love for her favourite game. “Well,” she started, “when I was six I played The Legend of Arcturus, and it changed my life! It brought me so much joy that it inspired me to bring joy to others. So my dream is to become an indie game developer just like Chariot. That’s why I’m here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mentioning of The Legend of Arcturus seemed to have an effect on Diana. Akko wasn’t entirely sure what that effect was. “I’m glad you have been inspired by the first Arcturus game,” Diana said. “And I respect the dream that you so passionately thrive for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko nodded energetically. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe she’s actually starting to get me—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“But,” Diana continued, “I cannot respect the desire to become like Chariot. While their game design and development skills are admittedly admirable, their business decisions demonstrated a lack of resolve to stay true to their creation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Their willingness to sell the rights to her game to Dream Fuel Studios was obviously lucrative, but had cemented the downfall of The Legend of Arcturus series,” Diana explained, in a strangely passionate tone that broke from her usual ice-cool demeanour. “If they were not a fool, then they would have known that this was the only plausible outcome from the signing of the deal. In essence, they had chosen money over their own artistic freedom. For this reason, Chariot is widely frowned upon by indie developers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko was flabbergasted. She had known that there were those in the online community who held very disparaging views on Chariot. She had learnt many years ago that engaging in flame wars on the internet trying to defend her idol was a fruitless effort that would lead to nothing but a spoiled day. But here she was, sitting in a class for game development, and she was being told to her face that Chariot was worthless. That the idol that Akko had looked up to for most of her life was nothing but a disappointment. That Akko was wrong to praise the person who had given her immeasurable joy and happiness in her childhood, the person who helped shape who she was today. And so she felt anger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re wrong,” Akko declared, “Chariot was never in it for the money. They made their game because they wanted to give people a world where they can feel joy and wonder in exploring. I’ve played the game hundreds of times, and each time I can feel a little more of the love that Chariot had put into their game. Sure, she did end up selling her game to Dream Fuel Studios and disappeared, but who are you to tell me why they did it? Maybe they really needed the money, or maybe they were pressured into it. But it doesn’t matter. Because </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t care.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Chariot made The Legend of Arcturus and that’s enough for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Diana was moved by Akko’s charged response, she didn’t show it. “I think for someone aspiring to survive in the grueling indie game industry, not holding Chariot accountable for their actions is both naive and unwise. Regardless of the possible justifications that Chariot could conjure for their decision, the outcome remains unchanged. They effectively desecrated and destroyed the own universe that they had created, that many had loved. And it is for this reason that you might be the last person who respects Chariot.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it was the first time that someone had been so outwardly critical of Chariot in front of her, but Akko felt affected. As if the hopeful flower that she carried with her for most of her life had been ripped out of her hands, thrown onto the cold, hard pavement and trampled upon. “We,” Akko started with gritted teeth, “have nothing more to talk about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana seemed slightly surprised at the thinly-veiled venom in the brunette’s voice. “I was merely stating a fact,” Diana explained nonchalantly. “One which you would benefit from if you set aside whatever emotional attachments you may have—which, frankly, seem to always get in the way of you attaining useful insights.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko didn’t respond. Because she knew that if she had, it wouldn’t have been pretty. It would have resulted in her blowing up in front of her entire cohort. In front of Ursula. She was angry, but she knew that she could grit her teeth and carry on. She had dealt with being belittled before, back in her Japanese schooling years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she saw students packing their notebooks and laptops into their bags, Akko stood up and walked out of the lecture room without another word.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What the hell is her problem?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko fumed as she paced around the pond of the park.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lyonne Park. A vast, beautiful park that was connected to the university. The trees came in different shapes and sizes and were spread out. Tall buildings of the city in the distance stood tall behind the canopy. At the centre of the park was a large pond that had vegetation growing out of it, almost like taller, yet sparcer grass. There was an island in the pond that had trees and colourful bushes. The island had a bridge where half a dozen people were walking across to get to and fro the university.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko had loved the park ever since she set her eyes on it back in first year. She would still sometimes visit the park with her friends, but it was a place that she enjoyed walking in even by herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being in the park had always grounded her mind. And being the kind of person who couldn’t focus on doing anything when angry, Akko had instinctively sought out this safe haven after yet another falling-out with the blonde during the lecture earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko knew that she could get </span>
  <em>
    <span>a little</span>
  </em>
  <span> defensive when the topic of The Legend of Arcturus or Chariot is brought up in a not so positive way, but she couldn’t help it. It was Chariot’s game that had gotten her this far. She felt like she </span>
  <em>
    <span>owed</span>
  </em>
  <span> Chariot for not only giving her something that she loved and cherished, but for igniting a flame in Akko’s heart that gave her a sense of purpose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, Akko was tired of the animosity between Diana and herself, but it was so hard to let it go when Diana kept rubbing her in the wrong way. And when that wrong way had been to insult the sacredness of Chariot in Akko’s mind, it really scored Diana no favours in her book.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why can’t she just keep her shitty opinions to herself?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko thought vexatiously. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Didn’t her mum ever tell her to not say anything if she didn’t have anything nice to say?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Then again, Akko did kind of criticise Diana’s game during the expo, but she didn’t even say it was bad or anything! Just that it wasn’t what most people would realistically see as a game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thinking about her experiences with Diana in the expo just made Akko feel even more frustrated, so she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. After she exhaled, she opened her eyes again. The water in the pond glistened under the sun. Pigeons flew all around, many sitting on the handrails of the bridge that stretched across the diameter of the pond. A particular pigeon sat in front of her. From Akko’s perspective, it looked perfectly spherical. She giggled and took a photo—thankfully just in time, as the bird flew away a split second after she took it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko sat down on the grass near the pond and pulled out her phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>15:23 Akko:</b>
  <span> hey guys look at this!</span>
</p><p>
  <b>15:23 Akko sent a photo.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>15:25 Lotte:</b>
  <span> Haha that’s cute!</span>
</p><p>
  <b>15:25 Akko:</b>
  <span> ikr</span>
</p><p>
  <b>15:25 Akko:</b>
  <span> it’s a smol ball</span>
</p><p>
  <b>15:26 Amanda:</b>
  <span> looks just lyk u bby</span>
</p><p>
  <b>15:26 Sucy:</b>
  <span> get a room u lovebirds</span>
</p><p>
  <b>15:27 Akko:</b>
  <span> wtf amanda are u calling me smol</span>
</p><p>
  <b>15:27 Akko:</b>
  <span> ALSO SUCY DID U JUST MAKE A PUN</span>
</p><p>
  <b>15:28 Akko:</b>
  <span> AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH</span>
</p><p>
  <b>15:31 Constanze sent a photo.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>15:32 Akko:</b>
  <span> no way</span>
</p><p>
  <b>15:32 Akko:</b>
  <span> nO WAY</span>
</p><p>
  <b>15:33 Akko:</b>
  <span> did u just put a fibonochi spiral on the birb</span>
</p><p>
  <b>15:34 Jasminka:</b>
  <span> i think it’s called fibonacci</span>
</p><p>
  <b>15:34 Akko:</b>
  <span> yeah that omg</span>
</p><p>
  <b>15:35 Akko:</b>
  <span> conze ur the  B O M B</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Akko put her phone down on the grass, giggling as she did. She felt better already. Her friends always made her feel better. She honestly had no idea how she would survive university without them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, she wasn’t going to let herself be affected by the blonde’s words. They didn’t matter. Diana and her weren’t friends, and Akko honestly couldn’t see how they could even become acquaintances. Their collaborative project is no doubt going to be troublesome, but whatever. Akko figured that in the industry, she would have to work with people who disagreed with her on even more important projects anyway. She would just have to push through. No biggie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko stood up and stretched. She started walking back towards the campus. Her steps moved from the soft grass to the grey concrete path.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko felt rejuvenated, as she always did from visiting Lyonne Park. She felt lighter. She felt ready to tackle the rest of the classes in her daily schedule—Diana’s words be damned! She wasn’t going to let Diana ruin her day. She felt even more determined than ever to push through whatever she needed to prove that she wasn’t wrong. She—</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh fuck,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko panicked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She forgot her phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She dashed back towards the park, miraculously not eating concrete in the process.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>yes. this chapter solely exists to explain the origin story of my <a href="https://imgur.com/a/Eox7SYd">discord dp</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Don't Follow Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Diana was anxious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Contrary to her usual walking pace, which was somewhat fast but not fast enough to be considered ungraceful, she was consciously taking her time getting to the meeting room in the library that she booked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Luna Nova Institute of Technology had various libraries across the campus. There were libraries dedicated to certain disciplines, but the main library, Jennifer Library, was a building that stood tall over the campus, offering plenty of study spaces for students who need them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana often enjoyed the walk to any of the libraries on campus, as it presented her with the prospect of a relaxing afternoon—well, relaxing for Diana at least—in which she could enjoy studying or researching in a quiet yet spacious environment with some black tea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But not today. For today, she was about to meet with a certain brunette about a project that neither wanted to do with the other. There was no tiptoeing around the elephant in the room; this project wasn’t going to go well, not only because of their immensely differing philosophies of video games that the girls worked under, but also because of the suffocating animosity that constricted any desire that either had for alleviation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana had been shocked when she found out that she was partnered with Akko, but that didn’t mean she wanted her relationship with the other girl to sink to a new low that she didn’t think was possible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, Diana had strong and not so positive feelings about Chariot, but in her mind, she was merely giving honest advice to Akko. If she didn’t acknowledge the mistakes that Chariot had made in ruining the wonderful world that she had originally created for people, then Akko would be doomed to repeat that same mistake. She would just become another Chariot; giving the world a glimpse of her creative potential, only to kick the majestic sandcastle she built into a pile of grains.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Not that she has shown any artistic potential yet,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana thought. But that wasn’t something that she truly belittled Akko for. Diana understood more than anyone the role that hard work and persistence played in shaping one’s craft, in both the academic and creative domains.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shuddered at the memory of one of her earliest endeavours in game development.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana hit “Play” on her Unity project. Excitement bubbled through her as her creation came to life.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A bedroom door. The door was indistinguishable from a big plank of wood—well, wood, if wood had no visible textures and was perfectly brown. In the middle of the door sat a text: “Mother”, in bold, Times New Roman font.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana approached the door and clicked. It opened, but without sound. Diana hadn’t gotten to implementing sound yet. Beyond the door was a bed with an eerily empty placeholder of a character asset on it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Come here, darling.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana walked over to the bed.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I need some water.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Can you bring me some?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana walked over to the table in the room. She made her character grab the empty glass that sat there, and held it to the jug. A blue substance seemingly materialising into the glass in an instant. She walked back to the bed and held the glass to the character.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Thanks so much for taking care of me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The character began moving its arms in a very janky, unnatural fashion, slowly bringing the glass to their head—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>With knee jerk reactions as if she had touched a hot stove, her hand immediately reached to mash the Escape key with more force than needed. She felt hot, frustrated tears pool in her eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It had felt like Diana was desecrating her beloved mother’s grave with an awful facsimile of the final month with her mother.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana deleted the project, along with all the assets used, and emptied the recycling bin.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana didn’t let her experience with her first creation stop her from becoming further acquainted with the hobby. No, Diana was academic. She walked away from experiences learning something new. And from her first game, she learnt to avoid depicting her most personal experiences and feelings so tactlessly and unsubtlely. Metaphors are great and powerful. Hamfisted depictions of emotionally-charged memories are not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that’s another reason why her current ordeal with Akko bothered Diana more than the other adversities she faced in her daily life. What was there to learn from this awkward animosity? Its continued existence is proof that neither Diana nor Akko had derived anything constructive from it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even asking Akko to meet up had been an uncomfortable experience.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It had been a week since the day Diana had found out about being partnered with Akko for the project. The way in which their “icebreaker” ended had left both girls with no desire to talk to the other.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But Diana knew they had to, because they needed to get a move on the project. The project design was due in less than three weeks, and Diana knew that compromising with Akko on something that they could both accept was going to be a very exhausting and lengthy task. The studious thing to do would be to start as soon as possible, an initiative that the blonde was determined to take.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana felt her anxiety growing as the lecture was crawling towards its end. She twirled the pen in her hand. She didn’t quite feel the need to write down Ursula’s exposition on the different approaches to playtesting.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“... and in this course, you will experience the importance of playtesting from both the perspective of the developer as well as the playtester,” Ursula said animatedly. “After you all submit your games, you will have the opportunity to playtest each other’s games and deliver feedback, which you must address in your final self-evaluations.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana checked the time, it was nearly five minutes to the hour, so she started packing. She knew that Akko wouldn’t linger after class.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sure you’ll find the opportunity to play each other’s games, and for other people to play your own, to be very exciting! That’ll be all for today. I’ll see you in this week’s labs for UI programming.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana stood up, exited her row and walked towards Akko, who looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching. Akko’s expression morphed from surprise to guarded neutrality after recognising her visitor.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Greetings, Akko,” Diana said politely. The steadiness of her voice was a surprise even to herself.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko opened her mouth, then closed it, as if stopping herself from making a mistake just in time. “Hey,” Akko greeted with no warmth. Diana was not put off by the frosty greeting she received. If anything, she was relieved that it wasn’t openly hostile.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I was hoping we could schedule a meeting outside of class so we could make a start on the project,” Diana said.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko looked confused. “Isn’t the project not due for ages?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes,” Diana responded, “but the first deliverable is the concept design, due in less than three weeks.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, but that still gives us like, two weeks before we need to start.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana gave Akko a glare. “We are not going to start that late. We should start as early as possible rather than trying to cram something this important.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko crossed her arms defiantly. “I start my assignments the week before all the time. And I do just fine. It’s not my fault if you work like a slowpoke.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This girl.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s in your interest to start early with me,” Diana said, trying her best not to let her frustration at Akko seep into her voice. “I’m not sure about yourself, but I want to create something that I can truly be proud of in this course, rather than a half-arsed game that I’m going to be ashamed of. And the only way I’m going to be able to achieve that is to start early and properly dedicate the time required for our project. So will you cooperate with me or not?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko seemed a little irritated to be lectured by the blonde, but to Diana’s relief, she relented. “Fine. When and where?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>At least she can see reasoning, Diana thought, sometimes. “Are you available tomorrow at three pm?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko thought for a moment, before answering, “Sure. That can work for me.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Good, let me make a booking,” Diana said as she pulled out her phone.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko cocked her head. “Do we really need a booking? Can’t we just, you know, just rock up somewhere?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Absolutely not,” Diana said as she browsed the library’s webpage on her phone. “Decent meeting rooms are often popular, so finding one without booking would be a rather difficult task.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As Diana tapped away on her phone, Akko tapped on fingers on the writing space of her row. “Look, I appreciate you taking your time and all, but I kinda need to get to—”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Found one,” Diana interjected. “Jennifer Library study room 306, tomorrow at three pm.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay. See you then,” Akko said as she stood up and left.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana walked through the automatic doors of Jennifer Library. She could have easily taken the elevator, but she chose to take the stairs instead. Partially because Diana didn’t do any physical exercise, and so occasionally taking the stairs over escalators or elevators was a small—very small—token towards maintaining a decent vitality.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But also, because delaying her inevitable meeting with Akko was a small reprieve. However futile it would be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She knew the study room was just around the corner. Her anxiety grew with every step she took. As Diana rounded the corner, she expected to see straight, brunette hair with that quirky half ponytail—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room, which was surrounded by glass, was empty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In her shock of not having the prophecy in her mind fulfilled, Diana stood outside the door. She pulled out her phone to check the time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>3:01 pm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana was </span>
  <em>
    <span>late </span>
  </em>
  <span>for once</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And the brunette wasn’t even here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Would Akko come at all? Maybe she had just accepted without actually planning to make it just to spite her. Or maybe she was simply late. Who knows?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana sighed and walked into the room. She carefully placed her bag near a chair and sat down. She didn’t have any way of actually contacting Akko, so she couldn’t simply ask her where she was. Diana wondered if Akko would even give her her number if she asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t until about ten minutes later, when Diana was reviewing her class notes for a lecture earlier that day, that the door burst open and a being of pure chaotic energy entered the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana had jumped, nearly throwing the notebook from her hands. Akko didn’t notice this in her frantic rush.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Verbal vomit was ejected from Akko’s mouth. “Oh my god I’m so sorry I nearly forgot and by the time I remembered I was halfway home so I legged it to the library but I forgot which room it was so I checked every room from ground floor until I saw your hair—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko had looked like she was on the verge of fainting with exhaustion and asphyxiation when Diana interjected with, “It’s quite alright, Akko.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The exhausted brunette took a moment to refill the oxygen that her body had lost before sitting down on the chair opposite to Diana. She took out her bottle of water and chugged it like it was an elixir of life. Well, water actually kind of is an elixir of life, so maybe that metaphor is too literal. Diana watched as a droplet had spilled from the bottle, tracing a river down Akko’s chin and neck. She wiped herself with her sleeve after she finished.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shall we get started, then?” Diana asked politely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Akko responded, before suddenly looking confused. “Where do we start?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Diana started, “perhaps we should begin with the themes that we want to portray with our game?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko looked even more confused. “That’s… I’ve never started off with anything as abstract as themes before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana raised an eyebrow. “Then at which point of the development process do you start contemplating about the themes of your game?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko looked unsure, as if she didn’t know whether she should feel embarrassed or not. “Uh. None?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now both of Diana’s eyebrows were raised.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t really think about themes or anything,” Akko continued. “I just go with what I think would be fun if I played the game.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana really didn’t want to begin judging Akko’s sense of fun, but after Potato S-Masher, well…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I believe we should begin with some kind of overarching theme to guide the rest of our creative process,” Diana suggested, doing her best to avoid coming off as condescending. She wasn’t sure if she was successful. “That way, we can ensure that our game will be consistent and coherent.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko wore a look of doubt with a hint of distaste. “But that sounds like you’re trying to paint a painting or write a poem,” she argued. “We have to make a game—a game that our peers will play. Like any normal gamer would, they’d expect something fun and exciting, not something to brood over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This again?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana felt familiar exasperation build up inside her. “Akko, even if you do not share my view that video games are art, as a developer you simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>must</span>
  </em>
  <span> appreciate the importance of having well-defined themes in the design process. Without them, whatever games that are made will inevitably become directionless and trite.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko looked affronted. “You’re wrong,” she stated firmly, as if the more resolute she sounded, the more correct she was. “Going into a game in the same way as you’d go into art would just end up as art. It wouldn’t be fun or anything. It would just end up being an art piece. A game should be fun! Why would you want to add obscure stuff to get in the way of that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Also,” Akko continued with a frown, “why does everything you say end up being so </span>
  <em>
    <span>condescending?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana blinked. “Excuse me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just told you that I don’t really consider themes in my games,” Akko responded, her arms now folded in front of her, “and then you straight up tell me that whatever I do must be ‘directionless and trite’? Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My intention is not to offend you,” Diana said. “I’m sorry that you took offense to that, but—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“See?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko exclaimed, her hands flailing wildly in the blonde’s direction. “You can’t even apologise for being condescending. Instead, you apologise for </span>
  <em>
    <span>me being offended?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Who does that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s eyes hardened at Akko. “Will you stop interrupting me?” Diana said coldly. “No, I will not apologise for making statements that reasonable people would agree with. I make them in the hopes that you would see their truths, for which you would benefit greatly from. That is all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘reasonable’</span>
  </em>
  <span> people would agree with?” Akko seethed. “Wow. Okay, Miss </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m-Way-More-Reasonable-Than-Akko-Who-Is-A-Dummyhead.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> She said that last part in the worst impression of a fancy British accent that has ever graced Diana’s ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not what I meant,” Diana said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I would appreciate it if you would stop </span>
  <em>
    <span>twisting</span>
  </em>
  <span> my words in bad faith.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ursula made a mistake,” Akko said. “We shouldn’t have been paired up with each other. Maybe I should ask her to change it up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This dolt should feel lucky to have me,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana fumed. “That would be pointless. She can’t change a single pair without also changing another.” She sighed. They were at an impasse. It was clear to her that in order to even </span>
  <em>
    <span>finish</span>
  </em>
  <span> the project, it had to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>tempered.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s clear that we’re going nowhere with this, Akko,” Diana admitted. “I propose we try to reach a compromise for our project. Perhaps we should… set our egos aside and thrive to make a… fun, mechanical game that also has an artistic component.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko didn’t look placated at all by Diana’s attempt at striking a compromise. “What does my ego have to do with anything?” She asked rhetorically. “I wasn’t the one straight up trashing all of your games that I </span>
  <em>
    <span>haven’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> played simply because you have a different opinion than mine. I wasn’t the one</span>
  <em>
    <span> insulting</span>
  </em>
  <span> you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana was beyond frustrated. “Will you stop making everything so personal? I have explained my intentions behind the things I have said, and yet you still choose to parse them in the wrong way?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>human?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko accused, her face flushed with indignant anger. “How can I </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> take what you said in the wrong way? Any normal person would! I don’t know how </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> could stand you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s eyes widened as she took a sharp intake of breath. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m a normal human being, just like—Hannah and Barbara, they… I—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her mind was running a mile a minute. Her heart was beating fast with anxious adrenaline. Her breaths felt shallow and inadequate. The room felt far too small, even with the windows. The air felt stale, as if every breath she drew had none of the oxygen that she desperately needed. It was too hot. The clothes on her skin felt like chains that constrained her to burn in the all too tiny room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana could feel herself shaking slightly. She could feel the unshed tears. The very edges of her vision were slightly blurred by them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I won’t—I won’t cry,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana fought with herself internally. </span>
  <em>
    <span>At least not in front of her.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The brunette girl facing her felt like the sun. She could barely hold Akko’s gaze. Diana felt as if she was being burnt by her very presence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The heavy silence that had followed Akko’s outburst must have helped alleviate some of Akko’s anger, because she seemed to have noticed that something was wrong. Akko unfolded her arms and rested them on the table. Her frown turned into a look of concern. “D-Diana?” Akko spoke hesitantly, breaking the tense quietness. “Are—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s shot up from her seat, surprising Akko into silence. She avoided the brunette’s worried gaze as she took her belongings. Without even taking the time to put her notebook into her bag or pushing in her chair, she made for the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Diana, wait—” Akko stood from her chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana turned to meet the red eyes that looked almost panicked with concern.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko must have seen it. The tears that threatened to spill at any moment. The trembling in the blonde’s features that showed a fragility that didn’t belong in Akko’s impression of the girl that was Diana Cavendish, fragility that spread like cracks on the surface of a frozen lake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But most of all, Akko saw the desperate, unspoken message in her deep, cerulean eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t follow me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And so Akko stood and watched as Diana walked out of the room with an almost urgent pace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana hoped that Akko didn’t see her bring her right hand up to her face to wipe her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diana willed her tears not to fall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last time that Diana had cried, it had been for the loss of an important figure in her life. If she cried this time, over hurtful things said to her by a girl that she had inadvertently offended, then somehow, that would feel as if she was tarnishing the importance of her mother.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sat there, under the tall tree that casted its shadows over her. She wanted the canopy of the tree to hide her from the other people that she inhibited the world with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana would have ran back home to her flat, but that would have incurred the possibility of running into Hannah and Barbara. She didn’t want to see them at the moment. They would have tried to make her feel better. They might even succeed in doing so, but Diana wasn’t ready.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After all, if she gave into the comfort that her friends would so willingly, so charitably provide her, then she would have proven Akko’s point.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t know how anyone can stand you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How did Hannah and Barbara do it?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were willing to provide Diana the warm embrace of friendship that she had lacked all her life. They were willing to shoulder Diana’s loneliness and make her feel normal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were willing when nobody else was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In Diana’s early years of schooling, her classmates avoided her because of a reason that she had no say in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana sat at her chair. She saw some students coming in from the door, while others were saying goodbye to their parents.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>One short girl in particular saw her from outside the door. Maybe it was Diana’s unique hair. The girl pointed at her.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana felt a shy nervousness and shrunk into her seat, trying not to make eye contact with the other girl, despite her own curiosity.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mummy, who’s that?” the girl asked.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The mother followed the direction that her daughter was pointing, and immediately lowered her little girl’s arm.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sweetheart, it’s rude to point,” she chastised softly in a hushed voice. That didn’t stop Diana from hearing her.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sorry,” the little girl squeaked out.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No it’s fine,” the mother reassured. “She’s Diana Cavendish. Her family is quite famous.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The girl smiled at her mother in excitement. “Oh! I’ve never met a… celebrity before!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“She’s not a celebrity, sweetheart,” the mother said. “And you should try to stay away from her. If you upset or hurt her, you might be in big trouble.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh.” The girl looked disappointed and worried.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana lowered her gaze onto her table.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She had never had a friend before.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But it seemed that today wasn’t going to change that.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The day after that day hadn’t changed that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And neither had the next.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But at least she had her mother.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Until she didn’t.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But in her teenage years that had followed, Diana’s loneliness had been buried in her dogged determination to fulfil a future that her mother had left behind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> was something that Diana and that future had in common.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana sat alone in the school library.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was a sunny day, yet not too hot. Exams for that term had finished, so students had no reason to study. Her fellow classmates were happy to be out in the open, enjoying their lunch break while engaging in gossip, or whatever sporty games that they played.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana wouldn’t know. And she didn’t want to know.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What Diana did want to know more about, however, was the types of nodal conduction abnormalities that can be identified from ECGs. The survey paper in front of her that she had printed earlier would help her in this endeavour.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As she read, Diana heard footsteps approaching. The footsteps stopped behind her, and she could feel that they were reading from behind her shoulder.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“SA node? AV node?” A masculine voice asked. Diana recognised the voice.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sinoatrial and atrioventricular nodes, respectively,” Diana responded straightforwardly.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ah. So you’re studying about cells of the heart?” the teacher asked.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not directly,” Diana answered nonchalantly, without breaking away from her reading. “I’m studying a model for cardiac arrhythmia based on the interactions between the action potentials of SA and AV nodes.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The teacher paused momentarily before chuckling. “Huh. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it looks like maths. And as the head teacher of biology, I can confidently say that this isn’t in our curriculum.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s because it is maths,” Diana responded. “And this is for personal interest. This survey paper summarises the on-going research in this topic by the academic community.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The teacher looked at Diana in concern. “Diana, why don’t you enjoy yourself with your peers? You don’t need to be there.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana’s shoulder tensed a little. “I’m not really interested in any of that. I’m perfectly content self-studying, as it will be beneficial for my future.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The teacher debated internally whether he should press the studious blonde further, but decided not to. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone,” he said. “But if you’re ever interested in spending some time with some of your peers, let me know. I supervise the science club.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I will. Thank you for the offer.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana didn’t take her teacher on his offer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had known that her peers weren’t particularly interested in befriending her. The socially outgoing girls couldn’t see how Diana would fit into their dynamic, while the other academically inclined students were intimidated by how much Diana outclassed the rest of them in their own strengths.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her first year of university had been much of the same. The only difference was that she was no longer forced to see her peers seven hours a day, and her classes were far more interesting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t until the start of second year, when Hannah and Barbara had entered her life, that she truly realised how lonely she had been.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But even then, she only had two real friends in her life. Other people had dozens who they could confide in. Diana was sure that Akko had many good friends, and so Diana couldn’t help but believe that the brunette’s biting words carried some weight to them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana turned her gaze from the grass in front of her to the rest of Lyonne park that she could see. While it was nowhere near crowded, she saw friend groups chatting and laughing together. Students having picnics. A couple embracing one another on a bench.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she sat alone, towards the back of the park, desperately trying to pick herself up after being confronted with a truth that she had already known.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With the exception of her two friends—her </span>
  <em>
    <span>first</span>
  </em>
  <span> friends whom she had only made a year ago at the age of nineteen—no one wanted to befriend Diana Cavendish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana Cavendish was polite—even charming sometimes, intelligent, pretty—if she was to go by the compliments she would get in formal social settings. But she was also cold, distant, excessively composed, and even condescending.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana Cavendish was someone that people would want as a political ally. She was not someone that people sought to have genuine human connections with.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Are you even human?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t want to be alone. No one truly did. Of course, there were times when she preferred to be alone to think, to recover—as she was doing now—but real companionship was something that she understood the value of. People who she could share her joys with. People who would be there for her when things got bad. People who she could be there for. People who she could open up to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah and Barbara were amazing friends—not that Diana had anyone else to compare them to—but she had walls around her heart even to them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A part of Diana was afraid that if she showed her true, fragile self, then even her two closest people on earth would leave her. Then, she would be truly alone. Just like before, except this time, she would be aware of just how cold the void was, having lost the candles that she had stumbled upon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the end, no one could pick up after the fragmented pieces of Diana except herself. She would bear whatever burdens she had. Because she had to. Because Diana was at a place in her life where she had a couple of friends, and she would do whatever it was necessary to keep it that way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So while Akko’s words had hurt her, Diana was going to have to do her best to pretend that her insecurities weren’t there, and deal with her problems herself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Diana got home, her flatmates were already there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good evening, girls,” Diana greeted as she removed her shoes,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah, who was busy on her phone, responded with, “Hey Diana, we decided to order Chinese. Is that okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s fine. Thanks Hannah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barbara gave Diana a strangely concerned look. “Hey, are you alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana nearly froze in her tracks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Am I that obvious?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She pondered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No need to panic. That would give her a reason to inquire further.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Yes, I’m fine,” Diana responded with a soft smile that was nothing more than just muscle memory. “Why do you ask?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah looked puzzled as she shot a questioning look at her best friend. Barbara looked into Diana’s eyes, as if searching for something. Diana felt almost naked under her scrutiny, and her discomfort would hit a threshold if it weren’t for Barbara letting go after a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Barbara finally responded, walking into the kitchen for a glass of water. “Just asking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just asking?” Diana repeated, curiosity seeping into her voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barbara shrugged as she drank from her glass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana was perplexed. She knew that Barbara was an astute individual. While she often conceded the centre of attention to her best friend, Barbara noticed details from the sidelines that most people wouldn’t pick up. Diana wouldn’t be too surprised if Barbara had noticed that she had been thrown out of her element today, but she had done her best to recover and erase all traces of evidence before returning to the flat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She must have acquired supernatural powers of perception from all that fanfiction,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana thought. She walked to her room and closed the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After the rather turbulent day that she had, Diana wanted to just collapse into the soft comfort of her bed and forget everything. It would be hard, as she would sometimes have trouble silencing her mind when something bothered her. But she supposed a shower might help calm herself even further.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe it would wash away the remnants of the emotions that she experienced that day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana stepped into her bathroom and locked the door. God knows Hannah wouldn’t hesitate to bust into her bathroom if she </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought</span>
  </em>
  <span> she had a reason to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took off her clothes and stepped into the shower. She made the water as hot as she could handle and submerged herself under its stream.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana felt herself relaxing as the streams of hot water ran down her body. It had been a little chilly that day, so the temperature of the shower was much welcomed. As she absentmindedly washed herself, her thoughts drifted to the brunette that, with just her words, had thrown her off of a cliff and down into tumultuous waters that had swept Diana into an ocean of doubt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What a troublesome girl,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought. But now, a problem was posed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How am I going to confront her after this? Akko has seen me as the wreck that I am. Is she going to laugh at me?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, Diana doubted that. Akko was a lot of things. Impatient. Confrontational. Irrational. But she hadn’t given any indication that she was cruel. At least Diana hoped that Akko wasn’t. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe I should try to convince Ursula to change partners after all.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After staying in the shower far longer than she normally would, Diana turned it off and dried herself. She changed into comfortable black sweatpants and a white top.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana wouldn’t usually be this desperate, but she really was tired. She placed a towel over her pillow and laid on her bed before her hair could dry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time that day, Diana felt comfortable and relaxed. She rested her eyes for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t think about being lonely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t think about her insecurities.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t think about Akko.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana had instead let her mind drift into blissful nothingness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Until her phone vibrated on the table. Diana groaned as she reached for her phone. She didn’t miss, because she always placed her phone such that its edge lined up perfectly with the edge of the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana opened her eyes. She became wide awake as she read the notification on her homescreen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <b>19:42:</b>
  <span> Hey Diana, it’s Akko.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>what is this??  h o p e ? ? ?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Communication</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Akko fucked up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no putting it lightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hadn’t truly meant to upset Diana. Yes, she was frustrated at her. Upset at her, even. But Akko wasn’t a girl who had any intentions of ever hurting anyone. She had voiced her grievances with the blonde, but somewhere in the exchange, her complaints had turned into weapons that had penetrated Diana’s seemingly invulnerable walls and wounded her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde was no longer the villain in Akko’s mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Diana is just human,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>just like me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> For whatever reason, Diana always wore her thick armour of composure and strength, but behind it all was a girl who was vulnerable to hurt just like anyone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m the villain here.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko was out of her element. She had never hurt anyone like that before. To be completely honest, she was surprised that her exasperated questioning of Diana’s interpersonal skills was what broke the other girl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Akko wasn’t going to judge. No, she learnt something today. She learnt not to presume things about people’s lives that she didn’t know about nor had any say in, lest she unwittingly stumble upon a landmine whose shrapnels pierced the hearts of others.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko didn’t want that at all. What she wanted was to bring joy to people’s hearts, not suffering. That was why she was here after all, so she could one day make games that people could find comfort and happiness in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so while she didn’t quite understand what it was about her words that had affected Diana so much, she empathised with the very fact that Diana suffered from insecurities.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because Akko knew what it felt like to be drowning in her own ocean of insecurities.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After Diana had left in the way that she did, Akko found herself stuck in a conundrum. She wanted to go after her, to reach out to her and apologise, but she received Diana’s message to be left alone loud and clear. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What… What do I do?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so Akko stood there, awkwardly, staring at the door that Diana had walked through for some length of time that she didn’t know. Students who walked past the study room looked at her curiously, but otherwise paid her no mind. Akko was usually one for new experiences, but it was safe to say, this particular experience that had knocked her out of her element was not entirely welcome.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, Akko sighed, picked up her bag and left. There was nothing else to do than to walk to her next lecture now. Her data structures lecture took place in the IT building too, which meant it would be a fairly long walk from Jennifer library.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko had no problem with this. She needed to take a walk anyway. Plus, it was rather early, so she could keep a leisurely pace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she walked, she couldn’t shake herself of the pained expression that Diana had before she left. The image had etched itself deep into Akko’s mind. The distress in those bright blue orbs. The tears that had been on the verge of spilling. The tremor in her lips. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I… I did that to her, didn’t I?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Akko strode on the concrete pavement, she realised that she needed to let go. Not of the feeling of having hurt the blonde, no, she would take responsibility for that. But rather, of the negative, indignant feelings she had of Diana from before. They were destructive. Akko could see that now. The hurt that they had resulted in was not worth however little of her ego that they had tried to save.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everyone who Akko had ever met knew her as a determined, passionate individual, and that wasn’t about to change. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I need to make it up to her,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko promised internally with a determined huff. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m going to apologise to Diana and make it up to her. Even if it’s the last thing I do!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so with that declaration, she started running. Because that’s the kind of thing Akko did.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That had been a mistake, because Akko had gotten to her class too early and nearly bumped into a cleaner when she rushed through the door. After apologising profusely, she had sat in the empty lecture room for nearly fifteen minutes before other students started walking in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, the lecturer walked in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good afternoon everyone,” he greeted into the wireless microphone that was attached to his shirt. “So far, in this course, we’ve seen some rather basic linear data structures. We’ve seen a more nonlinear one, in the form of trees. Today, I’ll be introducing the first </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> interesting data structure that we’ll be studying in this course.” A few students chuckled. “The binary search tree, which is able to perform search operations in logarithmic time. Wow!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rather excitable lecturer continued. Akko didn’t really get why people got excited over things like this. Like sure, maybe having log-time search can make her game run faster or whatever, but surely they’ve implemented that in video game engines already?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As usual, Akko tuned out of the lecture and began pondering an actual problem that she had and actually wanted to solve. Which was how she was going to go about apologising to Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Would Diana even want her apology? Akko had no idea. She knew that there are some people who held grudges so deep that even a genuine, heartfelt apology wouldn’t get through to them. Akko didn’t really understand that, but she really hoped that Diana wouldn’t be like that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But even if Diana rejected Akko’s apology, that would be well within her choice to make. While the thought of that possibility was nerve-racking for Akko, it didn’t temper her determination to make an effort at all. If anything, the possibility of failure egged her on even more—to give Diana the best apology that she would ever receive!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko rested her chin on the back of her hand in deep thought—a posture of cerebral investigation more intense than that of The Thinker. Her neurons fired wildly in every direction within the three-dimensional space of her brain, desperately trying to solve the first problem towards making an apology to Diana:</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How the fuck do I contact her!?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko screamed internally. She facepalmed as she remembered that she had every opportunity to ask Diana for her number for the class project, but it had never crossed her mind that one day she would need to talk to her outside of class. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid. stupid!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko suddenly perked up. Her </span>
  <em>
    <span>obviously</span>
  </em>
  <span> extremely academic mind churned as she realised that she had a linked list:</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko → Amanda → Hannah → Diana</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes! It’s so obvious!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko’s mind rejoiced. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can ask Amanda to ask Hannah to ask Diana to meet up with me! But wait, would Hannah even listen to Amanda? And even if she did, I’d have to wait ages before Diana could get the message. Plus, I wouldn’t know whether Diana even wants to meet up with me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko rested her head on her table as her solution fell apart. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Urgh. I can’t wait until next week to apologise to her. Surely there is another way—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, Akko sat up straight. Her neighbours gave her weird looks, but she paid no mind as her mind conjured another linked list:</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko → Lotte → Barbara → Diana</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s it!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lotte and Barbara are friends, so this linked list can actually be... linearly traversed!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko patted herself on the back. Perhaps she wasn’t going to fail this data structures class after all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Lotte! Lotte!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was all the warning the Finnish girl received—not nearly enough, as the fraction of a second left no room for reaction time—before Akko burst into her room with the refined grace of a SWAT team breaking down her door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte screamed as she jumped from her chair, nearly sending her laptop to the floor, which would have decimated her university AU Nightfall fanfiction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry!” Akko apologised as she scratched the back of her neck, looking embarrassed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Akko!” Lotte shrieked with her hand on her beating heart, clearly upset over the fact that her baby—her magnum opus of fanfiction—was nearly met with a premature death. “Don’t do that again, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko bowed deeply over and over again. “I’m so sorry Lotte! Please forgive me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte sighed as she sat back down on her chair. She flipped open her laptop screen, and only after she made sure that her writing was safe, she responded, “I forgive you, Akko. Did you need something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, I kinda messed up and… really upset Diana,” Akko admitted, looking down guiltily as she shuffled her feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?” Lotte asked gently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko laid down on Lotte’s bed. It was truly admirable just how much tolerance and patience the Finnish girl had, as to most people, a bed was a sacred sanctuary opened to only themselves and their lovers. Akko proceeded to recount her encounter with Diana earlier in the day as Lotte patiently listened without interjection—only periodically nodding like the excellent impromptu therapist she was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... and after accidentally scaring you in your room, I’m now lying down on your bed, retelling you this story that you’re now a part of,” Akko concluded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Lotte began, “you want me to get Diana’s number from Barbara so you can arrange to meet her to apologise?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Akko said, nodding vigorously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte smiled warmly. “Well, I’m glad you recognised your mistake and want to make it up to Diana. That’s very mature of you, Akko.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks Lotte!” Akko beamed. “So uh, should I call Barbara on your phone…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Lotte stated resolutely. “I know Barbara, and I know how to talk to her. I don’t think she’d give you Diana’s number otherwise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko looked surprised. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Even me telling Barbara that I want to apologise to Diana isn’t enough?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Oh, that’s fine then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte took out her phone and started typing at a speed that wasn’t comprehensible to the brunette’s mind. To Akko, Lotte’s fingers blurred with movement and the soft taps blended together, almost producing a low, continuous humming sound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko was almost lulled to sleep by the ambient sounds of Lotte tapping on her phone. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Almost,</span>
  </em>
  <span> as several minutes later, she was called to attention by the Finnish girl. “I got her number.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You got her—you got Diana’s number!?” Akko exclaimed, sitting up from Lotte’s bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte smiled at her friend. “Yeah, I explained to Barbara that you really wanted to apologise to Diana for something and she eventually agreed to let you have her number—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko lunged at Lotte with arms that resembled the claws of a lobster about to attack. The Finnish girl’s survival instincts were triggered, but she couldn’t react in time to avoid the bone-crushing hug that Akko engulfed her with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you, Lotte!” Akko declared. “Loveyouloveyouloveyou—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I—” Lotte strained as she fought for every breath, “get—it—Akko—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!” Akko suddenly let her go. “Sorry!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte took a moment to breathe. “That’s okay, Akko. Good luck with Diana!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks!” Akko said as she waved to Lotte as she left her flatmate’s room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Akko walked into her own room, she collapsed onto her bed. In her stillness, she felt her own rapid heartbeat. There was a giddy nervousness in her veins that made her fingers twitch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko was anxious, but there was a strange excitement. Perhaps it was the residual positivity from talking with Lotte that gave her a sense of optimism. She closed her eyes for a moment to reorient herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once she felt the ebb and flow of the blood in her veins calm a little, Akko turning the gears in her brain. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Should I call her? What would I say to her? No, that’s probably a bad idea.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko thought that it might be too soon to be directly talking to Diana. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My voice might only make things harder for Diana to take in my apology. I need to take it slowly first.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko pondered for a moment, before taking out her phone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>19:42 Akko:</b>
  <span> Hey Diana, it’s Akko.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko panicked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t know what to say! </span>
  </em>
  <span>The small window of tranquility that she had gained earlier was shattered into a million pieces. Akko suddenly felt hot with adrenaline. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What do I say? Oh god I fucked up again!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko gave herself a resounding slap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit,” she swore as she rubbed her right cheek that surely wore a red handprint. “That hurt!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Akko,” Sucy said from the hallway. “Did I just hear you slap yourself?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko froze. “N-no,” she called out unconvincingly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a momentary silence, between Akko heard the shuffling of Sucy’s feet as the Filipino girl walked into her own room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shock of her self-slap helped, as Akko no longer felt like she was panicking as if she rushed into an important apology. Well, she kind of did, but she wasn’t going to think about it. Akko might have made the mistake of rushing into an apology, but it didn’t have to turn out to be a </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span> apology.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko decided she should just be honest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>19:53 Akko:</b>
  <span> I’m really sorry for what I said earlier todya</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>19:53 Akko:</b>
  <span> today*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>19:55 Akko:</b>
  <span> what I said was mean and insensitive and stupid and there’s no excuse for that</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>19:56 Akko:</b>
  <span> I didn’t mean what I said</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>19:57 Akko:</b>
  <span> and I’m really really really sorry, Diana.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Akko put her phone down on the bed next to her pillow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She waited for a response, but after a few minutes of anxious silence, she gave up. She decided that she should go have a shower instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Akko crossed the barrier into her bathroom, she heard her phone vibrate. In the blink of an eye, she rushed back and picked up her phone—nearly dropping it in the process. Without even bothering to sit down, she unlocked her phone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>20:05 Diana:</b>
  <span> Hi, Akko. Thank you for apologising to me. I also deeply regret what had happened earlier today and I myself should have been better. I hope we can forget what happened and move on. I appreciate you reaching out to me.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Akko released a breath that she had been holding since hearing her phone vibrate. She read the message again. And again. Akko was glad that Diana had accepted her apology, but she wasn’t finished—far from it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>20:08 Akko:</b>
  <span> thank you so much for responding, Diana!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:08 Akko:</b>
  <span> you defs didn’t have to accept my apology, because honestly I was being an ass</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:09 Akko:</b>
  <span> I promise I’ll be really nice to you from now on</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:09 Akko:</b>
  <span> like the nicest person on the planet, I swaer!!!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:09 Akko:</b>
  <span> swear*</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Akko laid on her bed. She hoped that Diana would—</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>20:11 Diana:</b>
  <span> I really appreciate the sentiment, Akko. It’s quite alright, I’m fine now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:12 Diana:</b>
  <span> Although, if I may ask, where did you get my number from?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:12 Akko:</b>
  <span> oh yeah that would have seemed a bit creepy lol</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:13 Akko:</b>
  <span> I asked Lotte to ask Barbara for your number</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:13 Akko:</b>
  <span> I was gonna ask Amanda to ask Hannah to ask u if u wanted to meet up so I could say sorry but I figured trying to get Amanda to talk to Hannah was probs a bad idea</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:15 Diana:</b>
  <span> Oh, I see. That makes sense. You’re right, getting Amanda to approach Hannah would have been futile. I truly appreciate the effort you have put into this apology. I believe that I should also apologise for my own insensitivity. I truly did not intend to belittle you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:16 Akko:</b>
  <span> what?? no Diana, u don’t need to apologise for anything!! I’m the one who should be apologising here</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:18 Diana:</b>
  <span> Please, Akko, I would like to apologise for the way I have carried myself in my conversations with you. I hope you will accept my promise to try better in the future.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:20 Akko:</b>
  <span> yes of course I will! but I still think I was more in the wrong here</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Akko was ecstatic that her apology was going well. Better than she had imagined it would. It gave her the courage to go further..</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>20:20 Akko:</b>
  <span> hey Diana</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:20 Akko:</b>
  <span> is it alright if we meet up in person?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:21 Akko:</b>
  <span> I know I apologised over text and all but</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:21 Akko:</b>
  <span> it would mean a lot to me if I can show you my sincerety in person, you know?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:21 Akko:</b>
  <span> sincerty*</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:22 Akko:</b>
  <span> anyway, u don’t have to say yes or anything, but it would mean a lot to me if we could meet up</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:24 Diana:</b>
  <span> I think I’d like that, Akko. I appreciate your sincerity. I am free tomorrow after 4pm, if that works for you?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:25 Akko:</b>
  <span> ah yeah that’s right</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:25 Akko:</b>
  <span> sincerity</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:25 Akko:</b>
  <span> anyway yeah! let’s meet at Lyonne park at 4?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:26 Diana:</b>
  <span> That sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow then, Akko. Have a good night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>20:26 Akko:</b>
  <span> goodnite Diana! you wont regret tomorrow, I promise~!!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Akko put her phone down with a smile. Not only had Diana accepted her apology for her behaviour earlier in the day, but Diana had given an apology of her own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time since meeting her, Akko was seeing Diana not as an adversary, but a peer. Someone who might—just maybe—become her friend one day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But before that, Akko needed to figure out what she wanted to do and say to Diana tomorrow. Her proposal was purely impromptu, but Akko didn’t regret that at all, because it provided her with a chance for something good to grow from the rather disastrous meeting earlier that day. A chance to regard Diana as a human being, in the same way that Akko regarded her friends.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All that is left is for Akko to make tomorrow </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>3:54 pm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko eyed the clock on the lock screen of her phone impatiently. Her leg bounced, making almost imperceptible squeaky noises from the floorboard. She simply wouldn’t accept being late for her meeting with Diana. She wasn’t going to mess this up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, her class wasn’t situated too far from Lyonne Park, so unless her lecturer droned overtime, Akko wouldn’t have to run to make it. And she most definitely didn’t want to run, given what was in her bag—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>3:55 pm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... of course, we could also extend the relational data model to accommodate for multi-valued logic…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh god,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko groaned internally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he isn’t stopping!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko was going to have to take this into her own hands. She was going to start </span>
  <em>
    <span>solidly snaking</span>
  </em>
  <span> her way out of the lecture without drawing attention to herself. Not a problem for someone like Akko, who was trained in the art of stealth games, who was Japanese—the culture in which ninjas originated from—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She tripped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, her stumble saved Akko from getting her face S-Mashed by the concrete, but unfortunately that had made a loud noise that drew all eyes in the lecture to her. She froze under the spotlight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The old lecturer checked his watch and said, “Oh, thanks to our friend here, I now know that it’s time for me to stop. See you all next week.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko felt a wave of relief wash over her as the students in the room turned their gazes away to pack. She continued her way out of the lecture room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon, Akko found herself walking along the concrete path in Lyonne Park. As she neared the pond, she realised a </span>
  <em>
    <span>slight</span>
  </em>
  <span> mistake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko had asked Diana to meet at Lyonne Park, but she didn’t tell her </span>
  <em>
    <span>where</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the park to meet. It was a large park, and there were no places in the park that would grant Akko a vantage point from which she could see the entire park.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko pulled out her phone and typed a quick message.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>3:59 Akko:</b>
  <span> hey Diana, where do u wanna meet?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Akko was just about to send a message saying that she was near the pond when—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Akko?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The soft voice that Akko recognised instantly. She turned around and saw the blonde.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh hey, Diana!” Akko chirped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana gave Akko a tentative smile. “Hello.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko suddenly felt awkward. “Um, wanna sit at that bench over there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girls sat themselves at the bench after Diana nodded. There was a moment of awkward silence before—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Akko, I—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d like to—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence, again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana chuckled softly. “Please, go ahead, Akko.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Akko said shyly. She stood up in front of Diana, who was slightly taken aback by the gesture, and looked into her eyes, hoping to communicate her heartfelt intentions. “I am really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry for the things I said yesterday. No matter how I felt, it wasn’t right of me to say something mean like that. I just really want you to know that I didn’t mean it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana was about to say something when Akko suddenly bowed deeply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I, Atsuko Kagari, am deeply ashamed by my actions. I am very sorry, and I hope you can accept this apology. I promise I will do better in the future, Diana!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana was speechless. She had never seen anyone apologise in the way that Akko just did. In her shock, she realised that she had yet to answer Akko’s apology, thereby leaving her bowing in the surely uncomfortable position.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Akko. I accept your apology,” Diana said as she stood up, awkwardly touching Akko’s shoulder as the brunette stood up. Diana had no idea about the extent to which she should have helped Akko rise from the bow. She was really out of her element with the culture shock she just received.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko gave Diana a bright smile. “Thank you, Diana. I appreciate you giving me another chance. I won’t let you down!” she said in a determined voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, Akko, sit,” Diana said as she gestured at the bench. Once they both sat down again, she continued. “I really appreciate your apology. I have no doubts about your sincerity, especially now with the extra mile that you have gone for this. I, too, would like to apologise for my words. I should have been more aware about how the things I say may be read as attacks on your character. That is something that I wish to work on in the future, and I hope you will allow me the opportunity to do so.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko cocked her head. “Of course, but Diana, I… I’ve thought about the things you’ve said. And you weren’t really wrong about any of it. I took them the wrong way, so that’s as much my fault as it was your’s.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Diana asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko’s gaze turned to the pond. “Well, ever since our first… encounter at the expo, I started having doubts about whether I could truly make it as an indie developer. It wasn’t just you—I went into the expo expecting people to enjoy my game, since I’ve never really seen strangers play my games before, but it seemed like that people didn’t really care much for my game.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko took a deep breath. “I think,” she continued, as she fidgeted with her sleeves, “I was taking my frustrations out on you. And your game. I think a part of me was trying to hold on to the idea that I couldn’t be </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> bad at my passion and so I couldn’t allow myself to really appreciate your game. Or to listen to what you were saying and give you a chance. It was me dealing with my own insecurities in an unhealthy way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Akko,” Diana began, feeling strangely affected by Akko’s admission. “I… I don’t quite know what to say.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s okay, you don’t have to say any—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not entirely sure how I should express it, but I admire your own confession,” Diana said. “To admit and confront your own securities as you have done, to learn something from it. Not everyone has the strength to do that. I know that from my own experience.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Akko asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m… still confronting my own feelings of inadequacy,” Diana admitted. “But it’s not something I wish to delve into at the moment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand. And you don’t have to!” Akko reassured.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nevertheless, I myself am not absolved of fault regarding our initial not-so-friendly exchange during the exhibition.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No that’s not—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s true,” Diana said as she held Akko’s gaze. “I had suspicions of my own intentions during our encounter, but now looking back, I believe that not all of my harsh critique is founded on good faith. But rather, a part of me wanted retribution. To justify my own work by criticising your’s. I am ashamed of that, especially since had I been a little more patient, I doubt our quarrels would have escalated. So please, don’t place the blame entirely on yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana felt slightly self-conscious and awkward under Akko’s red eyes, which glistened. “Diana, I still think it was mostly me, but if that’s how you feel, then I forgive you. Don’t beat yourself up over any of it, please!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana smiled sincerely at the brunette. “I’m very glad to hear that, Akko.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I nearly forgot!” Akko exclaimed as she zipped open her bag and took out a container, a thermos and a couple of pairs of chopsticks and paper cups. She opened the container. “I made cabbage gyozas and sencha tea. It would mean a lot to me if you would let me share them with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana was beside herself. This was the first time that anyone had gone this far to make a wholehearted gesture to the blonde. “O-of course, Akko. This is very thoughtful of you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko looked pleased with herself as she happily poured tea from the thermos into the paper cups, handing a cup and a pair of chopsticks to Diana. “Wait,” Akko said, “do you know how to use chopsticks?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Diana responded, “I may be British, but I do try my best to be aware of other cultures.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay great,” Akko said. She placed the container between them. “Please enjoy!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana felt awkward as Akko watched her intensely. She plucked a gyoza, popped it into her mouth and chewed self-consciously. After she swallowed, she took a sip of the tea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, what do you think?” Akko asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s delicious,” Diana answered with a smile. “It seems that you’re a wonderful cook, Akko.” Akko beamed as she began eating.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girls enjoyed the small meal and beverage in comfortable silence. After they finished the gyozas, they shared some polite conversations about nothing in particular. Akko did learn that Diana was a year above her and yet was of the same age, and that she wanted to do a masters at Luna Nova Tech next year.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, they fell into silence as they drank sencha, looking out over the pond that was occupied by a flock of pigeons.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Diana?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?” Diana hummed as she took a sip of her tea and turned to look at the brunette.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I would like to work with the compromise you suggested yesterday,” Akko said. “For the project, I mean. I thought over what you proposed yesterday, and it made a lot of sense. I’d like to try making a game that has interesting themes, as well as being fun to play, with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana turned her gaze to the vast park, and watched as branches of trees swayed to the soft breeze. “I would like that to,” she said. “I believe it’s possible. Thinking back to my experiences playing The Legend of Arcturus as a child, I think that game was fun as well as a work that explored the themes of self-doubt and determination.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko’s eyes widened. “Diana,” she spoke with reverence, “you are a fan of The Legend of Arcturus too?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, but only of the first game,” Diana smiled sadly. “It meant a lot to me as a child. But I was… extremely disappointed by the sequels.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand, Diana. I feel the same.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yet you still idolise Chariot?” Diana asked, not out of malice, but rather of genuine curiosity. She wanted to understand Akko, who had surprised her over and over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How can I not?” Akko answered rhetorically, as if the answer to the question was obvious. “I was disappointed with them when I found out about their decision to sell the game to Dream Fuel Studios. But they still made the first game—a game that brought me so much joy, gave me a passion, and led me right here in pursuit of my dream. It made me who I am, Diana. And for that, I can never hate Chariot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana hummed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They conversed even after the tea ran out. The girls sat in the park much longer than either of them had intended. And when they both had decided that it was time to part ways and head home, Akko offered her hand to Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Diana,” Akko began, “I’d like us to start over.” She smiled, before saying, “Hi, my name is Atsuko Kagari, but you can call me Akko!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I’d like that too,” Diana said. She smiled warmly as she took Akko’s hand and shook. “Pleased to meet you, Akko. My name is Diana Cavendish.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Akko returned to her flat, she was skipping.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no,” Sucy remarked as she studied the mushroom that Lotte was boiling for her. “She’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte looked up at Akko and smiled. “I take it that your apology with Diana went well?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko gave her friends a radiating smile that made Sucy feel like she needed sunscreen. “Yup! It went better than ‘well’. It was perfect!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How so?” Lotte asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I might have made a friend,” Akko said merrily as she skipped to her room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>21:27 Akko:</b>
  <span> hey Diana, I just wanted to let u know that I enjoyed hanging out with you today ^_^</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>21:28 Akko:</b>
  <span> have a good night!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>21:43 Diana:</b>
  <span> Likewise, Akko. I look forward to our lecture tomorrow. Goodnight!</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>isn't Akko a treat?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Human Being</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>21:27 Akko:</b>
  <span> hey Diana, I just wanted to let u know that I enjoyed hanging out with you today ^_^</span>
</p><p>
  <b>21:28 Akko:</b>
  <span> have a good night!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diana stared at the messages on her phone. There was a warm feeling inside her. Relief? Elation? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Excitement?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana wasn’t sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was there, and Diana </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked</span>
  </em>
  <span> it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last couple of days had been a rollercoaster of emotions that, despite getting in the way of her concentrating on coursework, had made her feel alive in a way that she hadn’t felt in a long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not all of it was good, of course. Having her insecurities crashing down on her like an avalanche and burying her in thick layers of crippling self-doubt was most definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> fun. Diana was in the process of recuperating from the storm that had raged in her mind that evening, but it was really the messages she received from Akko that marked a turning point that began dispelling the dark clouds away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After recovering from the initial shock of seeing the name of the one person she didn’t want to talk to appear on her phone, Diana didn’t know how to react. After all, it was the very act of talking to Akko that had landed her in such a tumultuous state of mind, so surely, talking to Akko could only result in more hurt?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But if Akko had been the trigger, then she could also be where Diana could find closure in. So with cautious hope, Diana had responded to Akko’s apology. And it had felt like an oppressive weight was lifted off of Diana’s shoulders when Akko had expressed such sincere remorse for how she had made her feel, even when it had been unintentional.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana had hesitated when Akko had asked to meet up in person, but as a Cavendish, she couldn’t allow herself to feel intimidated by the possibility of failure. So she had agreed. Diana had been touched, even </span>
  <em>
    <span>moved</span>
  </em>
  <span> by how ardently Akko had professed her apology, as well as her promise to do better. Since her mother had left her, no one in Diana’s life had given her sentimental gestures with even a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fraction</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the passion that she had felt from Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so the moment in Lyonne Park with Akko was important to Diana.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>special.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Forever etched as a bright beacon in Diana’s mind that juxtaposed against the grey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To Diana, time had felt slow initially when they met at the park, but then it accelerated as they fell into steady conversation, and before she knew it, her time with Akko was over and became nothing more than a treasured memory that she wished could have lasted longer. During her walk back to her flat, she couldn’t help replaying her time with Akko in her mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Diana reached her flat, Hannah and Barbara demanded that she explain her rather solitary moodiness as of late. Barbara already had the gist of what happened without the explicit details, since she had been in contact with Lotte. Diana had felt like her friends deserved an explanation, and told them the events over tea. After all, a part of Diana understood that she should learn to be more trusting and open with her friends, who at least deserved that respect from her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was safe to say, placating Hannah’s ire towards the brunette had been a very difficult task.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“If you don’t give me a reason right now,” Hannah said with a menacing presence that wasn’t intended for her friends in front of her, “I swear I’m going to find Akko and throw her from the top floor of Jennifer Library!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana cringed at Hannah’s outrage towards her… classmate? Acquaintance? Friend? Diana wasn’t sure what her standing was with Akko. “Hannah, please,” Diana started, “there is no need. Akko has apologised wholeheartedly. I believe we’re on good terms now.” She wasn’t completely certain about that last part, as such was the nature of insecurities, but she needed to believe it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, but that doesn’t change the fact that she hurt you,” Hannah said. “A simple apology never makes all the hurt go away.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana was slightly taken aback by just how true Hannah’s statement was. Perhaps she spoke from her own experiences?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It was a very good apology…” Diana spoke, with a hint of defeat from being unable to refute Hannah’s insight.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I swear I’m going to make Amanda tell me where she lives,” Hannah fumed, mostly to herself.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana’s gears turned as she desperately tried to find something to pacify her friend. Then, she remembered. “Hannah. Do you not remember our pact?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hannah’s expression morphed from indignance for Diana to one of bemusement. “I’m sorry—what?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh yeah,” Barbara said. “I made you guys agree to a pact to make peace with your problems a few weeks ago.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hannah didn’t feel any more enlightened by what her best friend had reminded her of. “Yeah, so? It’s not like me giving Akko a piece of my mind is going to break the pact or anything. My problem is Amanda, not Akko.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana crossed her arms. “Yes, but if you do antagonise Akko, it would put a further strain between our relationship and therefore make it more difficult for me to fulfil my pact.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hannah opened her mouth, but closed it after not being able to find a rebuttal. “This pact is so stupid,” Hannah muttered.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana gave her friend an almost smug look. Almost, because Diana Cavendish wasn’t smug…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>… right?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>That had been hours ago. And now, Diana had to figure out how to respond to Akko’s messages.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Should I write that I enjoyed our time too?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, I don’t want to seem too eager. But I don’t want to give her the false impression that I didn’t enjoy our time together. Maybe ‘likewise’ is a good compromise.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But that wasn’t enough, because Diana felt like that she needed to somehow address the future optimistically. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I look forward to spending time with you in the future? She wondered. God, I sound positively repressed. I can’t be that repressed, can I? Maybe I’ll just settle for tomorrow’s lecture.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>… and dare I be bold and include this exclamation mark?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>21:43 Diana:</b>
  <span> Likewise, Akko. I look forward to our lecture tomorrow. Goodnight!</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diana was early when she arrived in the lecture, as she did with most lectures.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt nervous. Before, the nervousness that Diana had felt stemmed from the fact that she shared classes with a girl who felt animosity towards her. Now, Diana was nervous from the prospect of being cordial with the said girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Uncertainty, yet again. Diana had no idea what to expect. Would Akko barely regard her from now on, just like every other student in her classes? Or would Akko still feel lingering hostility? Diana couldn’t be sure. She didn’t know what she would do if the events of the previous days amounted to mere nothing—</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Diana!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p><span>In her musings, Diana hadn’t noticed the door swing open. She turned her head in the direction of the enthusiastic chirp and saw Akko walking towards her. </span><em><span>Is… is she going to sit next to me!?</span></em> <span>Diana panicked internally.</span></p><p>
  <span>Indeed, the brunette settled herself on the empty seat to the left of Diana.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Akko,” Diana greeted, her voice even in spite of her shock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, uh,” Akko started hesitantly, “you don’t mind if I sit here, do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course not,” Diana responded, mostly as an automatic response from her ingrained politeness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko seemed relieved. “Good, good…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana noticed that Akko was shuffling her feet on the ground. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is she nervous, too?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana pondered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, Akko,” Diana stammered. Akko turned her gaze to Diana. “How are you finding this course?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s really good! It’s…” Akko bit her lip and cocked her head, taking a moment to reflect. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cute,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko sighed. “It’s alright. The content is relevant and Ursula is really nice and all, but I do kinda struggle with the course sometimes. Like I’m fine with asset creation and whatnot, but harder stuff like shading and the mathsy stuff… they just don’t click as easily, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana nodded. “Everyone goes at their own pace with the technical skills. However, I do recall that the assets in your game were very impressive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup. I modelled those potatoes myself!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It seems that you have an aptitude for creating graphical assets. It’s more than what I can do, certainly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, n-no! It’s nothing,” Akko stuttered as she blushed from Diana’s praise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana was amused. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, so we’re modest now? </span>
  </em>
  <span>She decided that she liked the rosy shade on Akko’s cheeks very much. “It’s not ‘nothing’, Akko. It’s proof that if you set your mind to it, you can undoubtedly attain the rest of the skills involved with game development.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana’s eyes widened as she saw that Akko’s eyes were watery. “D-Diana,” Akko started, barely able to keep her voice even, “that means a lot… thank you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-it’s no problem, Akko,” Somehow, that didn’t feel like it should be enough for Diana. She looked down for a moment, before returning Akko’s gaze once again. “Would you perhaps be interested in study sessions with me? In addition to working on our project, I could help you with whatever concepts you may find difficult.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko was gaping like a fish. Her red eyes stared into Diana’s blues. After a moment, she spoke. “Are you serious, Diana?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why yes, I would be happy to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana froze. In a split second, Akko blurred into a rush of brown as Diana felt herself engulfed in Akko’s arms. She was extremely aware of the fact that Akko’s face was practically touching her. She stiffly lifted her arms up to awkwardly pat Akko’s back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re—you’re so generous, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Diana.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The way Akko pronounced her name made Diana shiver. Akko had always pronounced Diana’s name slightly differently to how everyone else did, but hearing the words caress her ear from lips that were only millimetres away was really something else entirely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana felt self-conscious, partially from the fact that some students had arrived and were looking at the girls curiously, but mostly because she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> close to Akko at that moment. She hoped that the other girl couldn’t hear how fast her heart was beating. “P-please, Akko.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko chuckled as she released Diana. “Sorry, it’s just… no one has ever offered something like that to me before.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana smiled softly. “I’ll take that as a yes, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A thousand times yes!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Diana could ponder on why that line sounded familiar, Ursula rushed into the lecture room and sheepishly apologised for being late before starting the lecture.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <b>13:52 Akko:</b>
  <span> hey Diana</span>
</p><p>
  <b>13:52 Akko:</b>
  <span> I might be a bit late cuz I’ma grab some a bite on the way</span>
</p><p>
  <b>13:53 Akko:</b>
  <span> do u want anything from the engo cafe?</span>
</p><p>
  <b>13:59 Diana:</b>
  <span> I don’t need anything, but thank you for asking. I’ll wait for you in the study room.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>14:01 Akko:</b>
  <span> kewl, see u soon~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diana put down her phone on the table in front of her and took out her notebook from her bag. She then took out a pair of earbuds and connected them to her phone, before hitting shuffle on her personal Spotify playlist. She looked down at the writing in her notebook.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana waited patiently as Akko seemed to be at a loss.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A moment.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Um…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Two moments.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Uh…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Too many moments.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Akko?” Diana tentatively asked.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko deflated as she faceplanted on the table. “Okay. I have no idea...”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s fine, Akko,” Diana said. She hoped that she sounded reassuring. “Deciding on thematic concepts is often the most difficult aspect of the design process.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I guess abstract things just really don’t come to me,” Akko said as she rose.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I believe it’s an obstacle for most people,” Diana said. “I personally always find it helpful to draw inspiration from yourself.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko looked puzzled. “Yourself?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes. For example, your personal experiences, worldview, feelings, or even dreams.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko’s expression looked as though she was in deep thought, before quickly morphing into one of doubt. “But my dream last night was about how Shiny Chariot stepped out from her poster above my bed and knelt over me and—” Akko’s eyes widened as her face took on a shade of crimson, “—uh, gave me fifty quid! Yeah!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana’s eyebrows were raised. “Okay, then perhaps we shouldn’t use our dreams as inspiration.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah,” Akko laughed awkwardly. “Not sure who wants to play a game like that!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Maybe you might find more success with looking into other aspects of your life?” Diana asked, before adding, “Not that you need to go into details, of course. You most definitely don’t need to mention anything you don’t feel comfortable sharing.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko rested her chin on her palm. Diana could see the gears turning in Akko’s mind. The biting of her tongue.The faraway look in her eyes. The way her other hand caressed the surface of the table, as if Akko could look into her own mind through the reading the texture of the table as if it were braille. Diana absentmindedly traced the curves of Akko’s face with her eyes as she waited for a response.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eventually, the silence had overstayed its welcome in Diana’s mind. She was about to suggest the safe but common theme of discovery when—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Chaos.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Chaos?” Diana echoed. She had expected Akko to maybe go for something more juvenile, like magic or adventure, but not something like this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah. Chaos,” Akko said as she met Diana’s gaze. “My day-to-day life is kinda… disorderly. But it’s more than that. I like to live life without always knowing what I’ll be doing from day to day, minute to minute.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, that sounds like Akko, Diana thought.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s a bad thing sometimes…” Akko continued, “... most of the time. But sometimes, when I least expect it, something good happens. I never know what it’ll be, or when it’ll happen. Life is kinda interesting like that.” Akko shrugged as she chuckled.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana thought for a moment. “That’s very interesting, Akko. I myself can’t relate to that, but that could be our first core concept.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko beamed at Diana, who almost had to look away to protect her retinas. “Yay! Now… how would we go about representing that in a game? Random number generators?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That could be a part of it, but perhaps we could connect it to a more tangible theme,” Diana said as she wrote the concept into her notebook. “Perhaps, a labyrinth?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Labyrinth… do you mean a maze?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes,” Diana nodded.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko looked doubtful. “But how are mazes chaotic? Aren’t they always fixed, and so they are orderly?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“While that is true, I believe that the experience of being in a maze can be described as chaotic. You never know what to expect around every corner. The frantic searching and backtracking, trying to keep a hold of the details in your mind.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah,” Akko said, looking thoughtful. “I guess you’re right. I’ve never thought about mazes like that before. Like, in terms of the experiences they provide. That sounds kinda cool.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana jotted down the word.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What about,” Akko began. Diana waited for her following words, which never came.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sorry, I’m not sure what the word for it is.” Akko looked annoyed at her own vocabulary.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Perhaps you could try describing the idea?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko furrowed her brows, as if trying to solve her maths homework. “You know how when you zoom into a maze, you really just get another maze?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>With her mind’s eye, instead of imagining what Akko said, Diana conjured the image of zooming out of a maze. Somehow, that felt more natural to her. “Is the word you’re looking for ‘recursion’?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Uh, not exactly. Like, that could be a part of it, but I’m more thinking about how you can do that to different parts of a maze, and get lots of separate mazes.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana nodded slowly. “Like breaking something large into smaller pieces, into its constituent parts? Perhaps, ‘fragmentation’?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko perked up. “Yeah! I think that word fits pretty well for what I’m trying to say.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Excellent suggestion, Akko,” Diana commended as she wrote it down. Akko nodded enthusiastically.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She’s almost like a puppy, Diana thought. “Fragmentation. That is a genuinely fascinating theme.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah. In terms of game design, that’s probably easily done by splitting the space into different sections or something,” Akko remarked. “Maybe we could tie it to something more abstract? Like a bigger theme?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana was pleasantly surprised by Akko’s suggestion. It seemed that the other girl really did want to step outside of her comfort zone for the sake of making a compromise with their project, much like Diana herself. They were meeting each other in the middle. Diana thought back to all the times when they used to bicker about their own views.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana’s eyes widened. That could work. That could work very well. “Memories.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Huh?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Our memories are fragmented. We don’t quite remember our experiences in any order, not even chronologically,” Diana explained. She felt a tinge of excitement. “Yet when they are recalled together, they provide us with personal narratives. Impressions. They become greater than the sum of the individual memories. Perhaps, our memories are the quintessential example of fragmentation.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko looked beside herself with an emotion. Was it admiration? “I… wow, that’s… that’s really amazing, Diana!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana blushed at the praise. It was a genuine praise—one that was not politically motivated, nor a necessity of politeness. Perhaps the praise felt more meaningful due to it coming from a girl who, up until very recently, was an adversary to Diana? “Thank you,” Diana said, avoiding the fire in Akko’s eyes. “I feel as though this may be enough to go on. What do you think?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko hummed. “I guess in a way, we have some good themes, but they might need a throughline?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Do you mean some sort of an overarching idea that guides how the themes will intermingle with one another?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah,” Akko nodded. “Like glue.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hm.” Diana stroked her chin. Akko is right, she thought. There needs to be something to glue these concepts into a comprehensible narrative. Reminiscing the past? No, that’s too moody, and doesn’t fit well with chaos—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I got it!” Akko suddenly exclaimed, breaking Diana’s train of thought—as well as making her jump.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“A-Akko?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Finding yourself,” Akko spoke ecstatically. “Finding oneself.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana drew a sharp breath. That’s it, she thought. She couldn’t have come up with a better core concept. She smiled warmly at Akko before committing ink to paper.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>CHAOS</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>LABYRINTH</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>FRAGMENTATION</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>MEMORIES</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>FINDING ONESELF</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Those were the concepts that they had decided upon.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>These are excellent concepts,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Akko has proven to be surprisingly—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The door burst open. “Diana—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana leapt in her chair, her earbuds clacked as they fell onto the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry I was late!” Akko frantically apologised as she all but plopped on a chair that was next to Diana’s. “The long to the cafe was very line and then I bumped into Ursula on the way and said hi and then I remembered that I forgot to collect my order and—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ahem,” Diana cleared her throat to interject. “It’s no problem, Akko. I was just revising what we had achieved during our meet up the other day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko was visibly relieved. “Oh yeah—by the way I got you this!” She handed Diana a bar of chocolate. “I know you told me that you didn’t want anything but I got you this anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Diana recovered from her initial surprise at the gesture, she smiled appreciatively at Akko. “Thank you, Akko. You didn’t have to.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is very sweet of you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko looked at Diana expectantly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Does she want me to taste it in front of her?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana thought with mild alarm. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I… I suppose there’s no harm.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She gracefully teared open the wrapper and broke off a piece of chocolate and gracefully popped it into her mouth. Diana self-consciously—because Akko was watching with a strange fascination—twirled the chocolate in her mouth as it melted. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Milk chocolate.</span>
  </em>
  <span> A little sweeter than what Diana would have preferred, but she enjoyed it nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the chocolate piece was all but gone, Diana spoke. “It was delicious. How much did it cost? I can pay you back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bright smile that was plastered on Akko’s face morphed to one of surprise at Diana’s remark. “I’m glad you enjoyed it, but you don’t have to pay me anything. It’s what friends do, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Friend,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>she called me her friend. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Right,” Diana timidly agreed. “You’re very kind, Akko. We’re not at all in a rush, so please feel free to enjoy your food before we start.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks!” Akko took a bite of her wrap and chewed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana had started to feel a little awkward in the near silence that followed, before Akko spoke in between eating her wrap. “So. Uh. What do you listen to?” She nodded to the earbuds on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…” Diana trailed off. She hadn’t really shared her tastes in music with anyone before. When her flatmates had asked her, Diana had simply responded with “indie music”, and they shrugged. Hannah and Barbara were fans of pop music, so they didn’t have much of a mind for music from artists they didn’t know about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The worst case scenario is if Akko made fun of her for her music tastes. Diana could picture this in her mind, as Akko had indeed slighted her for her tastes in video games back at the exhibition. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My reservations are not unfounded,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana debated internally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>but Akko did refer to me as a friend. Perhaps I should give her a chance?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I listen to indie music,” Diana continued after a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko perked up. “What kind of indie music?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a little hard for me to describe. Perhaps indie rock and pop are the best descriptors, but generally the music I listen to is rather </span>
  <em>
    <span>soft.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Would you like to listen to get a better idea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko nodded enthusiastically as she took a bite from her wrap. Diana passed Akko an earbud while she wore the other herself. After taking a moment to decide on a song that was somewhat representative of her music tastes, she hit play.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the guitars started playing, Akko stopped chewing. A beautiful, wistful voice began singing to the girls. Her voice was trailed by a haunting reverberation, as if the girls were in a vast yet empty cathedral.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Someday</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They’re gonna know</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re a real human being</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diana watched as Akko started softly swaying her head to the soft drum beat, as if lost in the gentle waves of the ocean, having been lured by beautiful sirens into its ebb and flow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Caught me on a line</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Filmed me just in the knick of time</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You go down the road</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Find what you’re gonna find</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bring it back to me</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We’ll have a good time</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite having watched the brunette, Diana herself was lost in this song. Every part of this song spoke to her in ways that she could not understand. Every layer of the song was hauntingly beautiful, as if a reflection of some part of her life for which she held bittersweet nostalgia for. Some part of herself felt as though she would truly grasp the meaning and emotions of the song some time in the future.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sideways glance</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did you figure out how to hold your face?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Someday we’re gonna</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sit around and talk about</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>All the time we used to waste</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And say, hey</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It wasn’t such a waste</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diana absentmindedly melted another piece of chocolate in her mouth as the song played. It was almost unsettling to how the song spoke directly to her soul, communicating meanings that eluded her conscious mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the song closed with its chorus, red eyes met blue. Akko handed the earbud back to Diana. “That was a beautiful song, Diana,” she said. “You have good tastes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I appreciate it,” Diana said with a soft smile, feeling strangely validated—more so than she would expect from a comment on her music preferences. “If you liked that song, perhaps another time I could recommend some artists to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah that sounds cool!” Akko washed down the wrap with a sip from her water bottle. “Alright I’m done. Let’s start?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Having established the themes of their project, the pair spent some time suggesting narrative and gameplay elements. They mutually agreed that the narrative should be kept minimal so as to fit the constrained scope of the project, with Diana suggesting the barebones narrative of a person suffering from amnesia, trying to regain their memories.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gameplay would be a metaphorical representation of that journey, as even Akko agreed that having a sprite running around collecting memories sounded rather clumsy and unappealing. Diana proposed that the environments in the game should be abstract and surreal to reflect the scarcely understood nature of a person’s psyche. She had been a little anxious at this suggestion, as she had expected Akko to rebuke the idea of injecting “artsy-fartsy” stuff into their game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But to the blonde’s astonishment, Akko wholeheartedly agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that makes sense,” she had said with a lively nod. “Moving around someone’s head must be a really weird experience. The only way we can really show that is by having some really weird landscapes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moreover, Akko could see the opportunities that rampant creativity could bring. It would allow them to create interesting, fun three dimensional spaces, for which the player is required to navigate through in order to collect the “memories”. It would be a giant </span>
  <em>
    <span>puzzle</span>
  </em>
  <span> which would challenge players to map the strange environment with their mind on the fly. It was as if trying to understand the complexities and impossibilities of someone else’s mind. Of a person’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>own</span>
  </em>
  <span> mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko and Diana had been so engrossed, even </span>
  <em>
    <span>energised</span>
  </em>
  <span> by their discussions of what their game would be, that neither bothered to keep track of the time. They had only realised that their hour-long booking in the study room was over when the door had clicked open and a grumpy-looking mature age student had bluntly told them that their time was up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently the man had been waiting outside for over ten minutes. Neither of the girls had noticed his angry looks thrown their way through the glass. But that didn’t bring Diana’s mood down, as she was too busy feeling energised and optimistic from the stimulating discussions that she shared with Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll… see you next week?” Akko asked as they walked through the exit of Jennifer Library.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Diana responded with a smile. “See you in Ursula’s class, Akko.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diana leaned back on the chair in her room and stretched her stiff joints. She clicked save on the assignment that she just completed for the biomedical instrumentation course that she was taking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was too early to turn in for the night—knowing herself, Diana wouldn’t be able to fall asleep even if she tried. She could try to work on a new game on her own, but somehow, that felt inappropriate. Diana was working on a game with Akko already, and so starting a new personal project would only end up influencing what they were creating for the class project, or vice versa.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without even a thought, her hand instinctively reached for her phone, to check for any new messages that she might have missed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From Barbara? From Hannah?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana was checking for messages from </span>
  <em>
    <span>Akko.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The brunette was strangely </span>
  <em>
    <span>affecting.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Was it because of her unabashed enthusiasm for life? Her adorable quirkiness? Her uncanny knack for subverting Diana’s expectations time and time again?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or maybe it was some sort of strange validation that Diana was getting from having cordial—even friendly—interactions with Akko?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana had no idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the one thing that she was sure of, was that she simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> wait until the following week just to talk to Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The brunette girl was just too intoxicating. Her personality was exotic and refreshing to Diana. A Cavendish’s life was swamped by political acquaintances; people who were composed, overly refined and paid no mind to the simple pleasures of life. Akko was not like that. Trying to cage any part of Akko’s exuberant personality would only lead to broken metal scraps. It was nothing like Diana had ever seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not to discount the other girl’s looks, of course. Diana had often found her own gaze lingering—sometimes longer than what would be considered proper—on Akko. On how her bangs moved around when Akko would speak animatedly. On her cute nose. Sometimes even on how daringly short Akko shorts were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But most of all, on her hauntingly alluring eyes. Eyes which were of a deep red that made Diana feel weird under their spotlights. Whenever Diana was caught under their gaze, she felt a battle wage internally, between the conflicting desires of </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanting</span>
  </em>
  <span> to bathe indefinitely in their warmth and </span>
  <em>
    <span>needing</span>
  </em>
  <span> to look away—she had to stop herself of course, because the longer she stared, the stronger the urge she felt to continue her exploration in the crimson.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana, however, refused to think too hard on it. She didn’t need any confusing thoughts or feelings to spoil the gift that her budding friendship with Akko had brought to her life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So of course, Diana was going to pick up her phone and open her messages. It was simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>inevitable.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What would be a conversation that Akko would enjoy?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana agonised. She took a moment to think back to their conversations earlier in the day, before she started typing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>20:39 Diana:</b>
  <span> Hi, Akko. I was under the impression that you enjoyed the song we listened to earlier today. If you’re not too busy, would you like to hear more suggestions for indie music?</span>
</p><p>
  <b>20:41 Akko:</b>
  <span> omg YES that song was really good!</span>
</p><p>
  <b>20:41 Akko:</b>
  <span> I love indie music (after all, I’m gunning to be an INDIE game dev hehe)</span>
</p><p>
  <b>20:42 Akko:</b>
  <span> pls gimme more suggestions I’ll 4ever be indebted to u</span>
</p><p>
  <b>20:43 Diana:</b>
  <span> Excellent. Please give me a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>20:43 Akko:</b>
  <span> np take ur time~</span>
</p><p>
  <b>20:52 Diana:</b>
  <span> If you enjoyed the sombreness of the song you heard earlier today, you might like Bent Denim, a personal favourite of mine, or Fog Lake. Otherwise, if you wish for something lighter yet still nostalgic, perhaps try Memoryhouse, Beach House or Foxes In Fiction. For something more lively and pop, The Marías and Tennis are fantastic bands.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>20:54 Akko:</b>
  <span> WOW that’s a *lotta* recs</span>
</p><p>
  <b>20:55 Diana:</b>
  <span> Oh, please don’t believe that you need to listen to them at all! I know you could be busy, so feel free to ignore them.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>20:56 Akko:</b>
  <span> NO Diana</span>
</p><p>
  <b>20:56 Akko:</b>
  <span> I *will* listen to ALL of them rn and let u know exactly what I think</span>
</p><p>
  <b>20:56 Akko:</b>
  <span> prepare urself</span>
</p><p>
  <b>20:56 Akko:</b>
  <span> the kagari train has no brakes</span>
</p><p>
  <b>20:57 Diana:</b>
  <span> Oh dear.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>a power outage isn't about to stop me from updating this bad boy—</p><p>The game that Diana and Akko are making is based off of <a href="https://globalgamejam.org/2014/games/enter-brain">Enter The Brain</a>, an entry for Global Game Jam back in 2014. Extremely indie, yes.</p><p>Stef Chura - Human Being</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. A Drink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Akko’s fringe swayed to the gentle breeze as she laid on the grass. Since they had a common break in between their classes, Lotte had suggested that they enjoy the pleasant weather on the patches of green in front of the quadrangle. The blades of grass tickled Akko’s ears as she turned to look at her flatmates.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t get how you guys can be reading,” she said lazily, “when it’s such a nice moment to just relax.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am relaxing,” Lotte responded without taking her eyes off of her novel. Akko swore that it must have been the fourth time her friend had read that volume, which apparently only came out a month ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but Sucy is studying,” Akko said as she stretched her arms out, as if making a snow—</span>
  <em>
    <span>grass</span>
  </em>
  <span>—angel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sucy turned the page of the textbook in front of her, and without turning to acknowledge Akko, she said, “I am also relaxing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko shrugged, which was a little awkward because she was lying down. She turned to gaze at the other people lazing about on the grass away from her group. There was always a strange sense of solidarity that Akko derived from seeing strangers taking a moment to live their lives slowly like she did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While no one played any sports or games on the well-tended grassy spaces, the liveliness came from the various friend groups chatting animatedly—about how university workload should be reduced, Akko imagined.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It reminded her of the beautiful parks she would sometimes visit with her parents back in Kyoto. Of course, Japanese parks were prettier, more tended to, more </span>
  <em>
    <span>artistic.</span>
  </em>
  <span> They felt like home. The parks here, however, were different. While they were less fancy, perhaps even less tasteful—if one really wanted to critique these green recreational spaces, they somehow felt more authentic. More filled with life. More accommodating.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After all, it was these minimalistic patches of green that offered refuge to those seeking a break away from life without feeling like they were in an art exhibition. Yes, Akko had some assignments waiting for her, but lying on her earthly bed, she felt like she was in a sanctuary that sheltered her from the stress of student life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko was happy to be sharing this little slice of contentment with two of her closest friends.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She turned to the sky. While the magnificent cerulean was blemished by the scattered grey of clouds, Akko focused on the colour.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It reminded her of a pair of orbs that belonged to someone she knew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Contrary to Akko’s initial impression of the blonde, in less than half a month, Diana had proven to be someone that Akko could be friends with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No,</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone whom Akko </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be friends with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>No,</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone whom Akko </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> already friends with. At least she thought so.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After all, who else but a friend would chat with you over music recommendations for over two hours?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That night, Akko was bestowed with the rare privilege of listening to Diana Cavendish’s tastes in music. The blonde tended to listen to songs that Akko thought sounded nostalgic and a bit sad. But who was Akko to judge her tastes—she had already learnt her lesson.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Admittedly, Diana’s music tastes were pretty good. While they weren’t exactly the kind of music Akko normally listened to, she could appreciate them. She could </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> them. And Akko supposed that was good enough. It was the kind of thing that people would find solace in. And plus, Akko was an </span>
  <em>
    <span>indie gal.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She loved all things indie, so she was over the moon when Diana had told her that she really only listened to indie artists.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If there was a gun to her head, Akko would admit that she got out-indied by Diana in the music realm. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I mean wow, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akko thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>there must be, like, no more than a dozen people on earth who listens to Bent Denim!</span>
  </em>
  <span> She wished that she could say “Yeah, I’ve heard of Bent Denim before!”, but then her pants would have caught on fire.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The most indie suggestion that Akko could give to Diana was Blood Cultures. While the blonde had said that the album Happy Birthday was a bit too electropop for her tastes, she did profess her </span>
  <em>
    <span>ardent appreciation</span>
  </em>
  <span> for the last song on the album.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko clumsily took out her phone and earbuds from her horizontal position and played the track.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, now we know</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why you show</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Off your bones</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She liked the song, but it was far from her favourite on the album, as she had preferred the </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolute bops</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the more lively songs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So difficult</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why’d you go?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Off the show</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Akko didn’t quite know why she had felt like playing the song. Perhaps to try and gauge what Diana had derived from the sombreness of the autotuned voice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Send me along a message</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>When we’re alone to see</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The only thing that’s missing</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tell me what it is you want to be</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps to feel closer to Diana.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t be so frustrated</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Things come naturally</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What is it you’re missing</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tell me what it is you’d rather be</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once the song ended, she took out her earbuds. She took a moment to think about what she was going to do after lazing around like a potato on the grass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A tutorial in about half an hour. Followed by—</span>
  <em>
    <span>urgh</span>
  </em>
  <span>—a two-hour lecture on data structures. She should probably start on that assignment when she gets home. Or at least start reading the assignment description. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m making dinner with Lotte tonight, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akko thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’ll be fun! Maybe we’ll make curry or something, but experiment with Sucy’s sauce—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bar. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh! That’s right,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko suddenly remembered, neurons firing wildly in every direction. </span>
  <em>
    <span>We’re hitting up one of the uni bars tonight!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Actually, it wasn’t really a university bar, since it was outside of campus. But it was frequented often by students and staff of the university alike, so it was often associated with Luna Nova Tech.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko was excited. She was going to be having a night out with her group later. Things were always bound to be unpredictable and fun with Amanda around. But there was someone else in Akko’s mind—someone who seemed to always be on her mind as of late.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So without a further thought, Akko spoke. “Hey guys, do you think I could invite Diana to drinks later?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sucy looked up from her textbook. “Akko,” she spoke with a voice laced with surprise and distaste, “why would you want to invite Diana?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte also stopped reading, her attention fully tuned into the conversation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because she’s a—” Akko momentarily paused, before continuing, “—</span>
  <em>
    <span>friend.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Despite that last word being a staple in Akko’s vocabulary, she had felt an odd unfamiliarity when it had left her lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are we talking about the same Diana,” Sucy said, “because when the fuck did you become friends with Diana Cavendish?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sucy, that’s not nice,” Lotte reprimanded, before turning her gaze back to Akko. “But she does have a point. Did you and Diana get really close recently?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko sat up from the grass. After being relaxed for so long, she had to take a moment to reorient herself and wait for the dizziness to dissipate. “Yeah,” she said. “We kinda got along really well?” Akko wasn’t too sure why that came out as a question. Perhaps saying it out loud had made her realise just how strange it must have sounded to her friends’ ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t a question, however. To Akko, it was a simple fact. In the recent weeks, she had felt Diana’s kindness and patience. They had regarded one another with respect and in good faith, and with that came the opportunities for understanding, followed by the shrinking of distance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t you say she is super rude and mean?” Sucy asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well. I was wrong.” Akko answered with a shrug. She had no qualms with admitting her fault in her initial assessment of Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And that she has a perfect ass?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm… I might not have been wrong about tha—” Akko suddenly stepped on the brakes on her line of thinking. “I never said that!” she said indignantly as her arms folded across her chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sucy snickered. “You did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No I—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte gently placed her hand on Akko’s shoulder to halt the bickering. “Well, I think your new friendship with Diana is great.” she said warmly. “I’ve heard from Barbara that she’s actually a really nice person if you get to know her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko beamed. “Thanks, Lotte! And Barbara’s right. Diana is so kind and generous and nice and all. She even offered to help me study!” She wore an expression of dreamy bliss as she swooned over the blonde.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She sounds wonderful,” Lotte added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah! And she even apologised for being too harsh. When it should have been just </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> apologising! Like who does that? That was so nice of her! Gosh she’s so—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Frankly, I’m going to gag if you gush anymore over Cavendish.” Sucy interjected with a look of disgust. “I feel like I need to drink hydrochloric acid just to wash the gross positivity out of my mouth. Also, I don’t care. I still think she’s an uppity prick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey you take that back right now—” Akko threatened, before Sucy continued.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But whatever. I don’t give a shit. You should be asking Amanda.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte gasped with realisation. “You’re right. I don’t think Diana would come if only she were invited. If you want her to come you’d have to also invite her flatmates. And that includes Hannah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh fuck,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I didn’t think that far ahead. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sucy clearly could see the conundrum in the brunette’s mind, since she cackled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko took out her phone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>13:22 Akko:</b>
  <span> hey Amanda, do u mind if I invite a few more people to drinks tonight?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:24 Amanda:</b>
  <span> yeah sure. anyone i know?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:25 Akko:</b>
  <span> uhhhh</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:25 Akko:</b>
  <span> u could say that lol</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:25 Amanda:</b>
  <span> ?????</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:26 Akko:</b>
  <span> Diana and her flatmates</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:26 Amanda:</b>
  <span> ?????????????????????</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:26 Amanda:</b>
  <span> and why the fuck would u do that</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:27 Akko:</b>
  <span> i’m kinda friends with Diana</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:27 Amanda:</b>
  <span> since when</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:28 Akko:</b>
  <span> yeah idk, we just kinda started getting along lol</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:28 Amanda:</b>
  <span> even if thats true, u do realise that i dont get along with her, right???</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:29 Amanda:</b>
  <span> on top of that</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:29 Amanda:</b>
  <span> HANNAH????</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:29 Amanda:</b>
  <span> r u out of ur god damn mind</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s right, you know,” Sucy remarked from behind Akko’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko huffed and started mashing her fingers on the screen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>13:31 Akko:</b>
  <span> amanda ur my friend and i love u and all but u should know that whole thing between u and hannah is kinda dumb and it’s about time u start making some real effort in getting rid of this weird animalsity between u and her</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:32 Akko:</b>
  <span> i did it with diana and now we’re real cool and the classes i have with her stopped being awkward and started being fun and stuff</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:33 Akko:</b>
  <span> so u better do ur best with hannah otherwise im gonna drag u to their doorstep just to make u guys kiss and make up</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:34 Amanda:</b>
  <span> woah ok akko calm ur tits</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:34 Amanda:</b>
  <span> jesus christ</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:36 Amanda:</b>
  <span> fine they can come</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:36 Amanda:</b>
  <span> but u owe me a drink</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yay! Yatta!” Akko exclaimed in triumph as she jumped and fistbumped the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte smiled softly. “I’m glad we can finally hang out with them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait a fucking moment—” Sucy said, before she was interrupted by the vibration of Akko’s phone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>13:37 Amanda:</b>
  <span> did they actually say they were coming?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Akko’s eyes widened. “Uh…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sucy facepalmed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>13:38 Akko:</b>
  <span> hey Diana! are you free tonight?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite Akko anxiously checking her phone every couple of minutes, she didn’t receive a response for the rest of the hour. When she had felt her phone vibrate during the lecture that had followed, she nearly knocked her laptop to the ground in a frantic rush to see the message.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>14:06 Diana:</b>
  <span> I planned on spending my evening doing some pre-readings for a course. Why do you ask?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>14:07 Akko:</b>
  <span> oh, I was just wondering if you wanted to go to the Claiomh Solais with me</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>14:09 Diana:</b>
  <span> With just yourself?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>14:10 Akko:</b>
  <span> … and my friends! haha</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>14:12 Diana:</b>
  <span> It has been a while since I last visited a bar, but I suppose my friends and I could appreciate the time off. They have been pestering me for quite a while now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>14:13 Akko:</b>
  <span> so uh</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>14:13 Akko:</b>
  <span> that’s a yes right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>14:15 Diana:</b>
  <span> That’s a maybe. I’m more inclined to go if Hannah and Barbara are interested. Can I let you know later?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>14:16 Akko:</b>
  <span> of course!! I hope to see u there~</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>14:17 Diana:</b>
  <span> Don’t wait for me.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>14:18 Diana:</b>
  <span> By the way, I sincerely hope you’re not messaging me in the middle of your data structures lecture.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>14:19 Akko:</b>
  <span> :x</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>14:19 Diana:</b>
  <span> Scandalous.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Akko had felt giddy when she walked through the entrance to the bar. Her gaze panned across the bar area and the nearly vacant dancefloor, feeling a tinge of disappointment when none of the blondes she saw had any traces of green.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Looking for us?” came a haughty and jokingly suggestive voice. Akko directed her gaze to Amanda just in time to see her waggle her eyebrows like the hottest shit on campus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte waved at Amanda and her flatmates while Sucy grunted—either in greeting or in response to Amanda, no one could be certain. Akko rolled her eyes at the redhead and walked towards her friends’ table. Her flatmates followed. “God I have no idea how you pick up chicks,” Akko said. “If you tried your moves on me and I didn’t know any better, I’d hit you with that one throw I learnt from judo classes as a kid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda quirked her eyebrows, as if finding that little piece of revelation about Akko’s life worthy of respect. “Oh shit,” Amanda said, “you practiced judo?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko shrugged as her flatmates and herself took a seat. “Yeah. I got kicked out after a week for sumo slamming another kid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And how old were you?” Amanda asked, looking genuinely impressed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda shook Akko’s hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would have believed you if you said it happened the other week.” Sucy remarked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Akko could respond, her phone vibrated. She suddenly remembered why she had been so giddy with excitement earlier. She took out her phone</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>19:33 Diana:</b>
  <span> Are you at the bar?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>19:33 Akko:</b>
  <span> yep!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>19:34 Diana:</b>
  <span> Alright. We will get there at around 8pm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>19:34 Akko:</b>
  <span> take ur time! no rush!!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>19:35 Akko:</b>
  <span> (looking forward to seeing u here tho hehe)</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Amanda started, with a hint of mischief in her voice. “Which hottie has you texting and smiling like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko looked up, a blush of embarrassment coated her cheeks. “W-what?” she stammered. “I wasn’t—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Diana,” Sucy answered nonchalantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Diana?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Amanda echoed with a disbelieving look on her face that begged Akko to deny.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko did her best to shrug indifferently—only to achieve looking like she was suddenly possessed by a clumsy spirit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda sighed in resignation and took a sip from her drink—something with coke. Knowing the redhead, probably whiskey or vodka. “Look, I have no idea how you managed to make friends with the Cabbage Patch Princess, but I guess I shouldn’t judge your tastes in friends,” she said. “‘Cause if I did then that’d be like shitting on myself. And I don’t like shitting on myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jasminka’s hand halted before delivering a hot chip into her mouth. “Some of us here are trying to eat, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry Jaz.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah,” Lotte said, “we should order some food and drinks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll come with you to the bar, Lotte,” Akko said. “You guys want anything?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jasminka shook her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Constanze scribbled </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m good</span>
  </em>
  <span> on her notepad with one hand as she drank from her glass of cider with the other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bring me a glass of whatever lager they have,” Sucy said, handing Akko a fiver.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get me a couple of tequila shots.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The table turned to Amanda with an array of reactions. Sucy facepalmed. Constanze passionately gestured a negative. Jasminka said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” to which Lotte nodded. Akko, however, nearly blew out everyone’s eardrums on the table with an emphatic “No!” which had silenced the entire bar for a few awkward seconds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda looked confused. “Wha…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d say you’re drunk, but really, making myopic decisions is something that you and Akko do even when sober,” Sucy said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” Akko shot Sucy an indignant look, before turning back to Amanda. “Even I know that you plus alcohol plus Hannah equals bad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah fuck,” Amanda deflated. “You just reminded me that Hannah’s coming. If anything, more alcohol helps me to deal with tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Constanze scribbled: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Amanda, that’s alcoholism.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda looked at Constanze as if she were actually a child who had no grasp of the harsh yet undeniable reality that sat in front of her. “Conz. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> an alcoholic.” The German girl rolled her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon Amanda,” Akko pleaded. “I really want this night to go smoothly. Can you at least try to get along with Hannah? Please? For me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda couldn’t help but to stare into the expression that Akko wore on her face that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>criminally</span>
  </em>
  <span> touching. She sighed, and said, “Urgh. Fine. But get me a margarita.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In an instant, Akko reverted to her exuberant self. “Coming up!” She stood up with Lotte and started walking—skipping—towards the bar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... cunt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Love you too, Amanda!” Akko shouted without turning around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only after Akko was gone, Sucy spoke. “Is Akko not aware that a margarita is still at least a shot of tequila?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Go Akko!” Lotte cheered softly—hearing the Finnish girl over the pop music that played in the bar wasn’t the easiest task.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’s my support?” Amanda asked as she strained with physical exertion, having been locked in a stalemate with Akko for at least half a minute by now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go Amanda!” Lotte cheered yet again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko turned to her friend with a scandalised look. “Et tu, Lotte!?—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That had been a mistake. The split second that Akko had diverted her attention to Lotte had proven to be her Achilles’ heel. Amanda saw an opportunity in that moment and assaulted the opening with the fervour of a venture capitalist in Silicon Valley. In that moment, she gave it her all, leading to a rush of pressure on Akko’s arm that she had not been prepared for in her lapse of concentration.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And swiftly as it happened, Akko’s hand fell onto the table. Amanda had won the arm wrestle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just like in all other realms of your life, your attention span proves to be your weakness,” Sucy snickered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If Lotte hadn’t backstabbed me there I would have won!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry!” Lotte said, looking genuinely apologetic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay. I forgive you Lotte!” Akko exclaimed as she brought her arm around her friend’s shoulders and pulled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate to admit it, but that was pretty impressive,” Amanda said, her respect for her friend had clearly elevated by the exercise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Truthfully, no one knew why Akko was stronger than she looked. A testament to her sheer force of will, perhaps. “Nah. You’re really strong yourself,” Akko praised with a grin. “Do you really work out that much?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean yeah. I gotta stay in shape for the ladies,” Amanda responded as she </span>
  <em>
    <span>casually</span>
  </em>
  <span> flexed, before smirking. “But most of my arm strength comes from jillin—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Constanze shut her uncouth friend up by putting—smacking, really—her hand to Amanda’s mouth. It landed with a resounding slap that made half the table cringe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ow—Constanze what the fuck!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The German girl pointed to Akko then making a drinking gesture with her hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh right—here I go!” Akko said enthusiastically as she skulled the rest of her beer. When Akko set her empty glass down on the table, so did Amanda. “Wait a minute, didn’t you win?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda brushed her hair with her hands looking like hot shit. “You bet your virginity I did. I just like drinking.” She shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko was about to leave the table to order another drink at the bar when a soft voice drew her attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was impressive, Akko,” came a voice that held no real intonation of being impressed, but rather an almost uncharacteristic teasing inflection.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko spun her head to the direction of that voice that she nearly gave herself whiplash. “Diana! You made it!” she beamed with the enthusiasm of a Golden Retriever. She saw that Diana wore jeans and a smooth, light blue turtleneck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana smiled softly back at Akko. “Of course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Barbara! Hi,” Lotte greeted. Her fellow Nightfall fanatic waved back with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah looked at Amanda awkwardly, as if she was at a loss as to what to say. “I… uh. Didn’t know you were going to be here,” Hannah said tentatively.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Amanda turned to look at Akko. “This is your fault.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko shrunk under everyone’s gaze. “Ah crap. Yeah that’s… my bad. I got over excited and forgot to give you guys the deets. Sorry...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana placed a hand on Akko’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.” She looked at Hannah, as if communicating something with her eyes. “Isn’t it, Hannah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah looked as if she wanted to disagree, but she relented with a sigh. “Yeah. It’s fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda reached for her glass, perhaps in search of a relief from the sudden awkwardness that had washed over the table with the newcomers, but instead she was met with great disappointment as she remembered that she had emptied her glass like a pro earlier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Amanda started as she stood up from her chair, “I’m gonna get myself another drink. Anyone else need anything?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was met with shakes of heads and negatives from her seated friends, with the exception of the Japanese arm wrestler that she had defeated. “Oh yeah, I need another drink,” Akko said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually,” Diana started, “I have yet to get myself a drink. Please allow me to buy you a drink. For inviting us here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was then that Akko realised that Diana still had her hand rested on her shoulder. She suddenly felt self-conscious of this fact, a fact that made her feel oddly warm for some reason. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gosh her hand is so soft and warm, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akko thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I wonder how her hand would feel if I touched it…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Akko?” Diana lightly squeezed her shoulder. Akko felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>electrified</span>
  </em>
  <span> by the touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh—s-sure…?” Akko stammered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh god, I sound like an idiot even to myself!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana gave Akko a smile that had only </span>
  <em>
    <span>a little</span>
  </em>
  <span> hint of amusement. “Wonderful. Do you have any preferences for drinks?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko, no longer trusting her voice, shook her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See you soon, then.” Diana left for the bar. Hannah and Barbara followed. Amanda awkwardly trailed behind them. Akko’s eyes lingered on Diana’s back for a moment before turning back to her friends.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For some reason, Akko missed the soft warm weight on her shoulder. It made her feel inexplicably naked. She subconsciously let her own hand touch the spot on her shoulder that was left vacant by Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte, having witnessed the exchange, looked at Akko curiously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s the most friendly I’ve ever seen of Diana. And I’ve had two semesters where I shared classes with her,” Jasminka remarked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sucy took a sip of her vodka and coke. “If you were to tell me right now that you and princess got into a shit fight earlier, I probably wouldn’t believe you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey! It wasn’t a shit fight. It was a…” Akko struggled for a moment. “Yeah okay it wasn’t so great. But see? I told you we’re getting along great now!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sucy shrugged. “Whatever. I actually don’t give a shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A couple of minutes later, Diana returned to the table carrying two glasses with the same drink. She set one of the glasses down in front of Akko, before taking an empty seat next to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope you like gin and tonic,” Diana said. “From my understanding, it’s generally a safe choice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko nodded fervently as she gripped the glass in front of her with </span>
  <em>
    <span>both</span>
  </em>
  <span> of her hands. “I love gin and tonic!” As if to demonstrate her appreciation for Diana’s gesture, she took a sip that was probably larger than she should have. When she swallowed, it nearly went down the wrong pipe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Diana asked in light concern.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, sorry,” Akko said, looking embarrassed. “That was a bit weird, I know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it wasn’t weird.” Diana wore a thoughtful expression. “Quirky, perhaps.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But that literally just means weir—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cute, maybe,” Diana said nonchalantly while looking at Akko, before taking a sip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko’s brain short circuited. If her life were an anime, then maybe she would spontaneously combust or something. Thankfully she didn’t, because then the alcoholic drink Diana got for her would go up in flames and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> would have been like wasting a gift bestowed from a goddess.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She called me cute?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko’s brain looped on this line for about a dozen times before a single thought was churned out from the process. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is Diana Cavendish flirting with me?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon, Amanda, Hannah and Barbara walked back to the table with their own drinks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know,” Barbara started, “if you think about it, Amanda won.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That held everyone’s attention. “What do you mean?” Hannah asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, think about it,” Barbara took a sip of her whiskey and coke. “Amanda tried a pick-up line on you last sem. A really shitty one, by the way. And now, she got you a drink.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hannah shrieked. More than a few people on their table cringed at the degradation of their hearing. “She didn’t just buy me a drink. She bought you your drink too. As an apology for before.” Hannah turned to Amanda. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Right?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was then that Amanda could feel the other girl’s terrifying presence. “Uh. Right.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See?” Hannah said triumphantly. Barbara shrugged and started conversing with Lotte. By this point, most of the table had turned to their own conversations.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So Diana…” Akko started, without having figured out how she wanted to carry the conversation. “Have you been to this bar before?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes I have, actually. I’ve frequented this bar a few times with Hannah and Barbara,” Diana said. “Although I’m curious to know, do you usually arm wrestle with Amanda in bars?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko took a sip of her drink. “Not usually. But we do like to do random challenges or games to spice things up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like what?” Hannah asked casually. She didn’t look too interested, but she also wasn’t a wallflower. She figured that out of all of the conversations happening on the table concurrently, this would likely be the one that she felt the least out of place in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda perked up. “Oh yeah. Remember that time we did Truth-Or-Drink-Sucy’s-Concoction? Akko didn’t want to answer whether she slept with a Shiny Chariot bed set in Japan and she was barely able to understand anything we were saying to her after taking that shot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Amanda!” Akko cried in indignance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But her grievances at her friend were gone the instant she heard the most beautiful sound in the world. It was a melody that she would never forget. A song that she wanted to play on repeat if she could and would never get tired of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana had chuckled. She had </span>
  <em>
    <span>chuckled</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the mental image of little Akko sleeping under a Shiny Chariot blanket, or of an inebriated Akko swaying like the branches of a tree on a windy day, or both.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound brought a warmth to Akko’s heart, and a bright smile to Akko’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah saw the rare, genuine mirth in her friend, so she decided to add fuel to the fire. “So. I guess we know what the answer is, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda smirked. “I don’t even wanna know how deep your </span>
  <em>
    <span>obsession</span>
  </em>
  <span> with Shiny Chariot runs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh god. I hope you’re not insinuating what I think you are,” Hannah said with faux outrage.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko was beet red. “N-no! Guys—I-I swear I—” she stammered hopelessly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana tried to contain her laughter, but instead had only achieved in giggling. She could barely stop herself from snorting. “It’s—it’s okay, Akko,” Diana managed in between. “There’s—nothing to be ashamed of.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you talking about having Shiny Chariot bed sets or the </span>
  <em>
    <span>other</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing?” Hannah asked mischievously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The former,” Diana responded. “I’m not nearly as crude as to insinuate such a thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A pause.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But it’s still okay if the latter was indeed—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Et tu, Diana?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko all but cried as the others laughed at her misfortune of being assaulted by friendly banter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana smiled in amusement at Akko. “I merely jest,” she said. “I hope you can find it within yourself to forgive me for my terrible crime.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko thought for a moment. “I don’t know, Diana. You might have to pay a heavy price for my forgiveness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh? Then what will it be?” Diana asked curiously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko put her finger on her chin and pretended to look like she was in deep thought. “Maybe, if you… get on the dance floor for thirty seconds?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn, Kagari!” Amanda whistled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s blue eyes initially looked shocked…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just kidding! You don’t actually have to—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>… before they gained a glint of playfulness that nobody thought Diana Cavendish’s eyes could have.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>earn</span>
  </em>
  <span> your forgiveness,” she said with determination.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The table watched curiously as Diana downed—yes, downed—the remaining half of her glass before she abruptly stood and strode to the dancefloor with the elegance and confidence of a noble.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The song that was playing was an upbeat pop song. Having been educated on Diana’s music tastes, Akko knew that this wasn’t something that Diana would normally listen to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she moved to it anyway. It wasn’t anything spectacular—Amanda could undoubtedly draw more eyes based on her skill—but Diana’s fluid movements synchronised with the beat. She moved with the grace that was befitting of ballet or ballroom dancers. Compared to the others that shared the dancefloor with her, Diana was gentle and elegant. She wasn’t all that confident about what she was doing, but Akko could see that Diana simply allowed the music to guide her. And as the seconds passed, Diana became less hesitant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko couldn’t help but to follow Diana’s hands as they moved outwards, as if reaching for something distant, before retracting back into her and travelled along and around her figure. Her hips gently swayed as she moved around. Akko was hypnotised by the beautiful curly hair that shadowed Diana’s movements.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s bright cerulean eyes met Akko’s deep red for many times during the dance. They seemed to tell Akko that Diana was dancing for no-one but </span>
  <em>
    <span>her.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And when the moment ended, it had felt too short, yet somehow longer than the half a minute that they had initially agreed on. Perhaps Diana enjoyed herself more than she had expected.</span>
</p>
<p><span>As Diana walked off of the dancefloor, she received a round of applause from the table.</span> <span>Akko stood as Diana approached. It was as if her legs had a mind of their own, carrying her towards the blonde.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Diana began with a smile. “Did I earn your forgiveness?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko responded in a heartbeat. “Yes. That. And so much </span>
  <em>
    <span>more.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana quirked an eyebrow. “More? What else did I earn?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko thought for a moment, before giving Diana a radiant smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A drink.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>god i love writing pub/bar scenes</p>
<p>Blood Cultures - Heavy Metal</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. She's Eating Japanese</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As Diana was drying herself with her towel, she heard the soft tune fade in from behind the closed bathroom door. From the speakers of her phone sitting on her desk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The old familiar vocals faded in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Though you hardly know her</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s pace quickened along with her heartbeat. She rushed the rest of her drying routine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was unusual for Diana not to leave her phone on silent or vibrate. But it was usually unnecessary, as she only ever received messages from Hannah and Barbara.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The light’s on its way</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She started dressing herself in a fresh shirt and sweatpants at record speed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps it was self-indulgent of Diana to use that song that she really liked as a ringtone. It was a rather slow, dreamy song that didn’t quite satisfy the usual qualities one might prefer in a functional ringtone. But no one called her anyway. Even her friends knew that she wasn’t someone who liked picking up phone calls.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The hand that rests upon it</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But more recently, Diana had started being more daring with leaving her phone on ringtone outside of her classes. She felt a slight tinge of excitement—a touch of hope—whenever her finger tapped the button to take her phone off of vibrate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana would be lying if she said that she didn’t know why she had been doing this.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Still wanna stay</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She managed to leave her bathroom as the keyboards and drums started playing the psychedelic tune. Diana raced to her desk as she held her breath…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>… only to sigh in discontentment as she saw the caller ID.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took a deep breath and released it, before answering her phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aunt Daryl,” Diana greeted in a frosty voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Niece Diana,” her aunt quipped back. “Glad to see you’re the same as ever, darling.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana rolled her eyes. “Did you need something?” she asked with no hint of welcome in her voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This, again?” Daryl asked rhetorically in a bored voice. “Really now? And I thought people praised you for being a quick learner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Unbelievable,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana thought in exasperation. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why does this woman have to ask me how I’m doing in the worst way possible?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Am I supposed to take it that you’re here to ask me how I’ve been?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Daryl said in a condescending voice. “Why else would I, as the good aunt that I am, be calling my niece?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh yes, the lovely aunt you are.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana huffed. “You’ve already called me for that not long ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was several </span>
  <em>
    <span>months</span>
  </em>
  <span> ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Would Diana be a bad niece if she wished that it had been several years instead?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Diana answered emptily, wishing that this phone call would end so she could go back to being content with her life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just fine?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>rebellious. “Peachy.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> her aunt warned with a voice of pure revulsion, “say that. Only the uncultured, illiterate American youths speak like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>positively</span>
  </em>
  <span> rebellious. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Naughty, </span>
  </em>
  <span>even. “Understood. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Boomer.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then came a silence. Diana decided that the silence was highly entertaining, as she could only imagine the quiet fuming of her prejudiced aunt. She hoped that her amusement didn’t seep into her words too much.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana heard a sigh coming through her phone’s speakers. She could almost feel its frustrated warmth brush across her cheek. “It’s times like this that I wonder whether I have failed as a proud, high-class British woman.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana smirked. Was this what banter was like? No, it couldn’t have been banter. Because she wasn’t exactly on friendly terms with her aunt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For the record,” Daryl continued, “I believe the kids </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> say ‘okay, boomer.’ So really, you’ve only succeeded in outing your own lack of acquaintanceship with your generation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s smile dropped. “Are you insinuating that—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come now, Diana,” Daryl said matter-of-factly. “You’ve never quite been the social butterfly I tried to shape you into.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> even remotely wanted me to be a ‘social butterfly’,” Diana spoke with indignance. “You merely wanted me to associate only with other high-class families. Never with anyone </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> deemed unworthy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d love to bicker further about how I was merely trying to set you up for success,” Daryl said sarcastically. “But unfortunately this isn’t about me and you’re not interested in any justification I might provide.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Urgh. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Diana pinched the bridge of her nose. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The self-righteousness of this woman. Unbelievable.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Daryl broke the moment of silence—a sanctuary in Diana’s mind. “Are you content with your social situation?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If by ‘social situation’ you mean the friends I have, then yes. I am indeed content,” Diana responded cooly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pleased to hear that. You were always lonely as a child.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>My god. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Diana seethed.</span>
  <em>
    <span> That’s it. I can’t take anymore of this. I’m going to really let her know that I’m not about to take any more of her shi</span>
  </em>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about your love life?” Daryl asked boredly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s mind blanked. “My love life—</span>
  <em>
    <span>what?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your love life, Diana. It’s really not that hard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not seeing anyone, if that’s what you wanted to hear,” Diana answered with venom in her voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you met anyone you </span>
  <em>
    <span>like?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Daryl asked with an intonation at the end that made Diana feel dirty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Red eyes appeared in Diana’s mind. Silky brunette hair. The arch of soft lips that was brighter than the sun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It only lasted for a split second, but she hesitated nonetheless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana could feel her aunt’s teasing smirk through the phone. “Well, well. Someone has captured my dear niece’s heart? Melted the inner glaciers of our frosty princess?” Daryl chuckled with the cruel amusement of a teenage girl in an expensive private girls’ school. “This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite</span>
  </em>
  <span> the development.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana was flustered. All her years of dealing with her overbearing aunt had not been sufficient in preparing her for this. It wasn’t just the fact that she was getting teased into a corner about a little crush by the professional shitbag that was her aunt, but also that it was a subject that she herself had been avoiding for a while now. It wasn’t really something that she wanted to think too hard about, because it would make her feel weird and strange and bring self-doubt to the forefront of her mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She recovered after a moment. A moment filled with her aunt’s barely stifled giggling. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Aunt Daryl.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It is not at all reasonable for you to make fun of me for no other purpose than your own amusement. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>refuse</span>
  </em>
  <span> to entertain you on this matter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But before I hang up,” Diana continued, “I should say that even </span>
  <em>
    <span>if,</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the unlikely scenario in which I find myself harbouring... feelings for someone, it would be none of your business. And you would do well to respect that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A moment of silence passed before Daryl spoke in a voice that was almost uncharacteristically soft. “So. Who is she?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s mind came to an abrupt stop. “S-she? I didn’t say she was a she.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Daryl didn’t bother trying to hold back her laughter. “Oh Diana. I’d love for you to try and tell me that you’re straight. It would make for the best joke I’d have heard in years!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana had just about enough. “I bid you a goodnight, Aunt Daryl.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just,” her aunt managed to get a word in before Diana could tap the End Call button. “Don’t try to hide your feelings.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... pardon me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been bottling up your thoughts and feelings your entire life. It’s about damn time you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> let someone into your life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I…” Diana stammered. Those were not words that she had thought she would ever receive from her aunt. This conversation felt so strangely personal that it seemed </span>
  <em>
    <span>inappropriate</span>
  </em>
  <span> that she was having it with Daryl. “I’m hanging up now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lovely talking to you. I had way too much fun as alwa—” was all Daryl got through before the call was killed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She skipped her bra in a rush for </span>
  <em>
    <span>this.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly</span>
  </em>
  <span> not worth it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana wanted to throw herself onto her bed. But she couldn’t, because her hair was wet. So she set her phone down on the table and walked back into her bathroom to put on her bra. Diana then left her bathroom, followed by her room, to wash away the lingering presence of her aunt with the most bitter tea she could find in their shared kitchen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her flatmates were out in Jennifer Library, trying to finish an assignment for their Sexuality in Films course. They weren’t usually the kind of students who liked studying in public spaces, but they had told Diana that they wanted a change of scenery—that they would get too comfortable if they tried smashing out their essays at home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she boiled the water, Diana couldn’t help but think about the destination of the conversation that she had with her aunt. She wasn’t going to lie to herself. She knew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>liked</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a non-platonic way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And she had known this for at least a week now. But at what point did Diana start to have feelings for Akko? She had no idea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was definitely before that night at the Claiomh Solais. That had been a night that had surprised not just her friends, but also herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That night, by the time Diana had realised that her hand was resting on Akko’s shoulder, she had felt too comfortable to move. It felt good touching Akko. Diana would have thought that it would be exciting, exhilarating to have even the slightest physical contact with the girl that she had grown to like, but instead, it felt like she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>home. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It felt right. Natural, even.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then there was the dance. Diana Cavendish simply didn’t dance on a dancefloor to pop music. But that night, she did. She wasn’t sure what had egged her on. Perhaps she was emboldened by how much she enjoyed the conversation that had preceded the event. Or maybe she wanted to impress Akko with a brand of spontaneity that she thought the spontaneous girl would appreciate. It was fueled by a warmth inside her, from being under the watchful gaze of Akko, and perhaps a little due to the slight headiness from the alcohol that she had. Really, it had been the first time that she truly went out of her comfort zone for someone else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it was met with red eyes that looked at her as if she was the only person in that bar that night. Diana had felt self-conscious under Akko’s gaze, but a part of her that rarely ever surfaced stopped her from crumbling into a pile of nervous mess. Under those red spotlights, she felt the courage—the </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span>—to continue. It was as if the more she captured Akko's eyes, the more she needed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When it had been over, Akko gave her a look that she had never received from anyone before, and bought her a drink. The rest of the night wasn’t as exciting as how it started, but it had been pleasant. Diana had an enjoyable time conversing with Akko and their pool of friends that mixed for the night. Despite her initial concern, Hannah and Amanda surprisingly enough didn’t bicker to any extent that would be considered as hostile. Diana didn’t feel as out of place as she would have expected, and she was grateful to Akko for that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some part of Diana had wanted to go that night to see if she truly did have feelings for Akko. That the feeling wasn’t simply a thought that was conjured from the result of internal feedback loops running amok in her mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And indeed, she received her answer in the beating of her heart that she felt from being around Akko. It was a heady sensation that was more intoxicating to her than the alcohol that she drank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana set the teabag into her cup and poured the boiled water into it. She carried her cup back to her room—her graceful sense of balance allowed her to walk at an impressive pace without spilling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Diana reached her desk, she set her cup down and sat in her chair. Her work was done for the night, so she had some time to herself before turning in for the night. During normal nights, she would flip open her laptop. Maybe spend some time to read some news or scout around for indie music to add to her collection. Perhaps even work on her own games, although this hasn’t quite been much of a hobby since the indie game exhibition—she was looking forward to working on this with Akko.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But no, Diana didn’t open her laptop. Because this was not a normal night. Because her aunt had forced her to confront the reality that she was experiencing something unfamiliar, something unknown. That she had romantic feelings towards someone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not just anyone. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Akko.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was strange. Diana would have never expected to fall for a person like Akko. She had expected to fall for someone more… graceful. Polished. Cerebral. Akko was </span>
  <em>
    <span>none</span>
  </em>
  <span> of those things. If anything, the brunette girl was diametrically opposed in all of those qualities. It was surprising to even herself that Diana didn’t care about any of that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A voice in the back of her mind made her question whether she should be concerned by her growing feelings for the brunette. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Perhaps this is simply the result of your own repression of that part of yourself, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the voice said. </span>
  <em>
    <span>These feelings are only strong because you have found Akko to be a convenient person to latch yourself onto.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana took a sip of her tea. The warm bitterness flooded her senses and washed down her throat, refreshing her in body and mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t have a rebuttal against her self-doubts. But the tea at least helped in diverting her attention away from it all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course Diana had felt attraction to other girls before. But they had been fleeting infatuations that went away after a week. She had always been good at thinking herself out of an infatuation—as well as most of her other emotions in general.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it was irrefutable that there was something special about Akko. Diana had never met anyone like her before. Someone who challenged her in a way that no one else did. Someone who lived in the moment and gave her affection so freely, so effortlessly to the people around her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If the way that Diana lived her life was a question, then the way that Akko tackled life was the answer. That was what it felt like to Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wasn’t attracted to Akko </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> for her legs that seemed never-ending whenever she wore her shorts that were certainly too short—</span>
  <em>
    <span>god help me, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought. Diana was attracted to her because Akko’s existence posted a proposition to her. A proposition that maybe, just maybe, she could let herself go a little and walk towards a beautiful, yet uncertain destination that might make her happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Diana’s hair dried and her cup emptied, she laid on her bed and listened to mellow songs about being in love, until eventually she felt like she was tired enough to fall asleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe she would see Akko in her dreams.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe she would see Akko tomorrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Diana and her friends walked through the door to the restaurant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a quaint little hole in the wall that one would miss if they hadn’t already known about the place. For its small capacity, it was rather popular due to the hundreds of five star reviews they received online. The cuisine was an interesting fusion between western and eastern styles, motivated by the different cultures that the two married owners grew up in. Their age was reflected in the rather unique aesthetic of the restaurant, which blended Victorian era decorations with the style of the 70’s. Diana always felt that she was in a different world whenever she crossed the boundary into the restaurant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A waiter approached the trio. “Good evening ladies,” he said with a polite smile. “Do you have a reservation?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Barbara answered. “A table for three under Barbara.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. Right this way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The waiter led them to a table further down the back. It was comfortably spaced away from the other patrons. The girls took their seats around the table and glanced over the menus set in front of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a few moments of “Hey Barbs, should I get this?” and “Oh, I’ve never tried that one before!”, the same waiter approached them and asked if they were ready to order.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Truite de Mer Fumée, please,” Hannah replied with broken French that she was probably proud of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The daily pasta, thanks,” Barbara ordered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana took a moment longer, before she said, “The Japanese set.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very well,” the waiter said. “Would you also like to order any drinks?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barbara looked at Hannah and received a shrug in return. When she looked at Diana, the look in her blue eyes communicated her indifference. “We’ll take a bottle of whatever champagne you guys have.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The waiter returned shortly with a fairly nondescript bottle of champagne in a small bucket of ice and three wine glasses.The restaurant wasn’t really all that fancy, despite the menu having French dishes in French. He opened the bottle with a corkscrew in a couple of swift motions that flaunted his experience. “I’ll be back with your orders soon. Thank you for patience,” he said before leaving to tend another table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The silence that the waiter left in his absence was replaced by the soft music that played across the restaurant. The Cranberries. And given Diana’s previous experiences at the restaurant, the speakers would likely be playing album after album of the band for the rest of the night. She poured a moderate amount of the drink into her friends’ glasses, followed by her own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gosh. I can never get over how nice the vibe in this place is,” Barbara praised as she looked around the restaurant with an appreciative smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. It’s rather lovely,” Diana agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This really reminds me of that place that Belle and Edgar had their first date at in volume four—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Barbs,” Hannah interjected. “I love you, but if you don’t stop referencing Nightfall right this moment then I’m going to write really bad smut between Belle and Edgar and read it out to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Barbara said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah squinted her eyes, as if accepting a challenge, before meeting Barbara’s eyes and speaking in an unemotional voice, “Edgar jackhammered Belle’s loins like an unfinished construction site as she came with the force of a thousand thermonuclear bombs. He roared like a lion asserting his dominance as he—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay stop!” Barbara cried as she covered her ears. “You have no idea the pain that you’ve just inflicted on me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah I really don’t,” Hannah smirked in self-satisfaction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana watched in mild amusement as Barbara desperately washed down her torment with a sizable sip of her champagne.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So Diana,” Hannah said. “How are things going?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By ‘things’ do you mean my courses?” Diana took a sip of her champagne.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana quirked an eyebrow. “They’re good. My final biomedical courses are going splendidly. They’re not too difficult and time consuming, so I’m able to find time during my week to work on research with Professor Meridies.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about that game dev course you’re taking?” Barbara asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana smiled to herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko rested her chin on her palms. Her leg bounced incessantly, creating waves of vibrations that Diana could feel as they travelled across the interconnected wooden seats.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You seem nervous, Akko,” Diana said.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah. I guess I am,” Akko said as she turned to look at Diana. “I’m just really proud of what we’ve done. But with my track record of getting back disappointing marks… I don’t know.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>They had submitted their concept design a week ago. Ursula had promised to provide feedback and marks within a week in order to make sure that the students were on the right track.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Both Diana and Akko had been happy with the outline of their concept design. They had described what the first release of their game would look like in detail. During one particularly productive session, the girls had stayed in the library for four hours straight, lost in an endless world of ideas. It was as if both of them were seeing the same dream in their minds.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But it wasn’t simply because of productivity that she held that memory so fondly. Diana had secretly enjoyed Akko’s presence and company throughout. They had initially begun the session by sitting opposite to one another at the small table in the meeting room, but eventually, they sat beside each other.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Watching Akko bite her bottom lip as she focused was strangely endearing to Diana. But if she were to be honest with herself, at this point almost anything Akko did seemed charming to Diana. At times, it had been a struggle not to try to make physical contact with her crush. It had been exhilarating enough for their hands to accidentally touch a few times, but at one point, she had been very nearly overwhelmed by the desire to tuck a loose strand of brunette hair behind Akko’s ear as she was absorbed with drawing initial concept art for their project.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Akko, I believe that ultimately, if you are truly proud of your work, then whatever mark you receive shouldn’t matter,” Diana spoke with a firmness that could only be described as the righteous authority of a religious leader.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You really think so?” Akko asked.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana looked into Akko’s eyes with an intensity that she hoped would communicate her sincerity. “Absolutely,” Diana replied, earning a soft smile from Akko that would have swept her off of her feet if she hadn’t been sitting down. “Regardless, I’m rather confident that we did well. It really was an excellent concept design that would have surpassed whatever I myself could have come up with.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A light crimson overtook Akko’s cheeks. “I feel the same way,” she said, struggling to meet Diana’s eyes in an adorable embarrassment. “We do pretty well together, huh?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Now it was Diana’s turn to look sheepish. She turned her gaze to Ursula as she began handing out the feedback to students. “It would seem that we do.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>When Akko read over what Ursula had to say about their concept, she looked up into Diana’s eyes with an elation that Diana could have sworn was infectious.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s going well,” Diana responded. “The content is interesting and the project has been a rather fun experience.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barbara perked up at the penultimate word in that sentence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah,” Hannah said. “You’re working with Akko, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s correct. She has proven to be a wonderful partner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barbara raised both of her eyebrows at the ultimate word in that sentence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Barbara?” Diana asked curiously. “Are you alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes I’m…” Barbara quickly sips her champagne again—almost too quickly, since the liquid nearly spilled. “... fine. Fine!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana didn’t buy it, but she figured that pushing Barbara would be pointless, so she relented. Hannah and Barbara soon fell into a comfortable conversation that Diana listened to, before the waiter arrived shortly after with their food.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Japanese meal that Diana had ordered had a few pieces of sashimi, sushi and tempura. It also came with a modest serving of rice, an assortment of vegetables and fish and a bowl of miso soup. It looked delicious, yet modest and authentic. Diana had always had an affinity for Japanese food—there was always an aesthetic minimalism that she appreciated, perhaps their orderliness scratched an itch in Diana’s compulsive brain—although she didn’t often go out of her way for it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she began eating, her mind naturally drifted to the other Japanese element in her life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That girl entered Diana’s life with the grace and impact of a tornado. Diana knew now that the moment that she heard Akko’s approaching footsteps in the indie game exhibition marked a turning point in her life. Akko had challenged Diana cerebrally—her preferences, ideas, art and philosophy—as well as viscerally—her insecurities, her need for genuine friendships and perhaps even something </span>
  <em>
    <span>more.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From being confronted in this way, Diana felt herself develop in a way that she hasn’t felt for years. Not only had her understanding of video games and their creation had changed, but also the realisation that in Akko, she had found a friend. That even though Akko had caused the flaring up of her insecurities, she had also been the one to quiet them as quickly as they started. And that perhaps in Akko, Diana could find something even more precious, something that she never quite thought that she would ever want.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Diana spread some wasabi onto a piece of sashimi, she realised with some amusement that that was a surprisingly good analogy for Akko.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wasabi.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana placed the sashimi into her mouth with her wooden chopsticks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obviously, wasabi is Japanese and so is Akko. But there was more to it than just that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>First, there was the initial numbing sensation—an introduction—that preceded a challenging experience.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, there was the spicy </span>
  <em>
    <span>kick</span>
  </em>
  <span> that was as exhilarating as it was challenging, especially when one didn’t know what they were in for. Diana knew that she had definitely shed tears when she first tried wasabi as a child, and vowed to never try it ever again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But after the kick, her sinus would always feel cleared. Refreshed. Her taste buds would be electrified, and she would taste her food differently. Her experience of the things in front of her would be more alive and vibrant. A perspective shift that helped Diana appreciate the things in front of her more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then Diana would take a sip of her miso soup. She would feel the warmth wash over her and settle within.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana was broken from her reverie by Barbara. “So Diana,” she began with a strangely mischievous yet uncertain voice, “are you enjoying </span>
  <em>
    <span>eating out</span>
  </em>
  <span> Japanese?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah looked up from her food. She looked at Barbara, bemused by her wording. The cogs in her brain turned as she chewed on her food as well as the syntactic puzzle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana, however, thought nothing of her friend’s interesting choice of phrasing. “It’s deli—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wait,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hannah interjected. “No way. Are you making a dirty joke about Diana and Akko?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clearly, Hannah had been influenced from being a little more acquainted with Amanda.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry?” Diana’s eyes widened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry!” Barbara exclaimed. “It’s not even that funny but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why would you even make that joke?” Hannah asked with a haughty tone. “Like that would actually be funny if there was anything between them. But obviously there isn’t, so…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah turned to look at Diana, perhaps expecting a scoff or dismissal at the idea, but instead Diana sat there, frozen. Her hands were holding onto the table like a lifeline, as though otherwise they would shake. Crimson settled onto her cheeks. Her eyes wide with a mixture of panic and embarrassment. Her mouth was slightly open, as if Diana wanted to say something to save herself, but couldn’t in the heat of the moment that had sprang out so unexpectedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Diana…?” Hannah spoke hesitantly. “Do you…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry!” Barbara squeaked out yet again. “That was so impulsive of me and might have been on the alcohol since I was kinda hungry before I started drinking but oh my god I’m so sorry!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… I…” Diana could barely form sentences—a far cry from the composed Cavendish that she usually was. “It—it’s okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh god. Barbara what have you done,” Hannah remarked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana took a moment to breathe and reorient as her friends watched her in concern. “It’s fine,” she said with a shaky breath. “I’m rather surprised that you found out. Was I too obvious?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well clearly not,” Hannah said, hoping to quell Diana’s fears, “since I never noticed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To be fair, not everyone is trained in the art of romantic fanfiction as I am,” Barbara said with an edge of pride, earning an eye-roll from Hannah. “Or Lotte. Actually, that’s how I found out. We both kinda noticed that you and Akko behave… let’s just say, differently towards one another than you guys would with your other friends. Especially since that night we all went out to the Claiomh Solais. It was only after when Lotte mentioned it to me during Nightfall Soc the following week that we both kinda deduced that you guys have something going on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait,” Diana’s mind crashed at one detail. “Are you saying that Akko acts </span>
  <em>
    <span>differently</span>
  </em>
  <span> towards me than the rest of her friends?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barbara nodded furiously, clearly trying to turn a mistake into a golden opportunity. “Yes,” she replied. “We’re as sure about Akko liking you back as we are about you liking Akko.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s expression morphed from surprise to one that radiated her newfound hope with a soft smile as she gazed dreamily down at the table. “I—that’s… wonderful,” she whispered softly, more to herself than to anyone else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah and Barbara looked at the lovestruck expression on their friend’s face before turning to look at each other with a smile that communicated “our Diana deserves this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you should ask her out,” Hannah suggested.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana was suddenly pulled from her daydreaming. “I’m… not so sure,” she spoke hesitantly, with a look of self-doubt. “I’ve never had any experience in romance. I want the best for Akko, but I don’t know whether I would be a good… </span>
  <em>
    <span>girlfriend.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> That last word felt strange on Diana’s tongue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh stop worrying about this,” Hannah said in exasperation. “Everyone has to experience their first at some point in their lives. And no-one knows how they might manage in a relationship,”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Barbara agreed. “Plus, you should give it a shot. If you don’t even try, I swear to you, it’ll be something you’ll regret for the rest of your life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana pondered over her friends’ words as she sipped her champagne. “I understand where both of you are coming from,” she said, still a little unsure—a little afraid. “But the last time I followed your advice, I had a terrible time at the exhibition.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you kidding?” Hannah asked incredulously, as if Diana had told her that The Incredible Hulk belonged in the MCU. “It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>our advice</span>
  </em>
  <span> that led you to meeting Akko in the first place! You should be thanking us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Barbara could barely contain her giggling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana suddenly looked as though she realised that she had been defeated by facts and logic, and wore an optimistic smile that also carried her gratitude for her friends. “You’re right. What would I do without the two of you in my life?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you’re going to ask Akko out on a date?” Barbara asked hopefully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I…” Diana hesitated, before summoning her steel resolve. “I think I will.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her friends smiled at her. The girls fell into a comfortable silence as they went back to enjoying their food and champagne, each smiling to themselves at the way that things had worked out.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>isn't Diana adorable??</p>
<p>Hannah's smut tho—ngl i kinda wanna write intentionally bad smut just like that for crack</p>
<p>Beach House - Irene</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Just Right</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Even as she stood in the morning shower, Akko was filled to the brim with nervous energy. The refreshing droplets that decorated her body with countless rivulets did nothing to wash away her restless energy. She was very much a frothing bottle of cola that had been shaken too much.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She barely slept the previous night. Even in her bed, she had been jittery to the point of feeling almost feverish, kicking away her blankets several times during the night to relieve herself of the scorching heat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko was possessed by an electrifying excitement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All because of a phone call that she had received the previous night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All because of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Diana.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even through the incessant pitter-platter of the streams of water striking the ceramic tiles of which she stood on, Akko could hear Diana’s nervous proposition echo in her mind with perfect clarity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko’s phone vibrated on her desk as she was trying to make a start on the data structures assignment that had been released last week. Normally Akko wouldn’t bother starting until a few days prior to the due date, but Diana had insisted that she make the initial effort. Something about finding the motivation to start being the hardest part of completing it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She wasn’t sure whether she agreed with Diana’s wisdom, as surely, completing something was the hardest part of completing it, but Akko begrudgingly listened anyway. Because she was certain of two fundamental laws of the universe.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>One: Diana had Akko’s best interests in mind.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Two: Diana was smart. Very smart. Too smart.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The second premise was self-evident. A “tautology”, if Akko recalled correctly from her logic course last semester. The first premise hadn’t been immediately obvious to her from the start, but after spending many weeks with her newfound friend, Akko had become convinced of its truth through the countless pieces of evidence that she witnessed from her time with Diana.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Thus, being the trained logician that she was, Akko deduced the following statement from the above set of premises:</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Therefore: I should listen to Diana!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But at the moment, a new conundrum had presented itself.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The caller ID was Diana Cavendish.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What? Akko asked herself in vain. Diana never calls me!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And then Akko’s mind started pondering the possibilities. Wait, what if she’s in trouble? What if something happened and she really needs help?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko’s mind started descending into a spiral of frantic panic. Fuckfuckfuckfuck—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She picked up her phone as quickly as she could, nearly pressing the “Decline” button in the process, which almost doubled her heart rate.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Diana!” Akko yelled into the phone as soon as the line was open. “Areyouokayohmygodpleasetellmeyou’realright—”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Akko?” Diana interjected with concern. “Slow down. Are you alright?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Am I alright?” Akko asked incredulously. “What do you mean if I’m alright? Are you alright?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes. I’m fine, Akko. Why wouldn’t I be?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko released a breath that she was holding and felt the rapid beating of her heart subside as a glorious relief washed over her. “Oh thank god,” she sighed. “You never call me. So I thought something bad must have happened.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A pause. “Oh. I’m sorry,” Diana apologised awkwardly. “I sincerely hope I didn’t make you worry too much.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Of course not!” Akko chuckled sheepishly. “Okay. Maybe just a little.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I should have known better. I promise I’ll text you first next time.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No! Don’t apologise, Diana,” Akko reassured with a sense of urgency, as if Diana’s feelings mattered more than the near heart attack that she had suffered only moments earlier. “It’s all good!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“If you say so,” Diana said in an unsure voice.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I definitely say so,” Akko reiterated confidently. Even she herself didn’t know where she drew that confidence from.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Diana stop stalling!” came a voice in the background that Akko heard over her phone’s speakers. It sounded suspiciously like Hannah.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not stalling—” Akko heard Diana say in a muted voice, like she was talking to someone beside her. She was cut off by a “Ask what you called her to ask!” in the background that sounded suspiciously like Barbara.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Um,” Akko started, not knowing how she should sound, “is everything alright over there?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hm? Why yes, Akko. Why wouldn’t it be?” Diana asked rhetorically with an exaggerated sense of normalcy.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, Diana is definitely acting weird, Akko thought. “Uh, nevermind. So, Diana, why did you call me?” A pause, before Akko added, “Not that I don’t want you to call me. Not at all!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I-I… Akko,” Diana stammered in a way that was very unlike Diana Cavendish. “I called to ask whether…”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko waited for a moment.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Two moments.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The suspense was accumulating more than what Akko’s already battered heart could take. “Diana?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sorry,” Diana apologised in a quiet voice. “I’m just a little nervous. Please give me a moment.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko found the image of a nervous Diana particularly endearing. “Yeah of course—”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The line clicked dead.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wha…?” Akko was dumbfounded. What just happened? She pondered internally. She started growing concerned for Diana yet again.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko started pacing around her room as she rummaged through her mind. She couldn’t think of any reason why Diana would act the way she did over the phone. Maybe she was one of those people who don’t feel comfortable talking over the phone? That would be consistent with the fact that up until now, Diana had never called her.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But that didn’t explain why she had called Akko just now.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Why would Diana be nervous over the phone? To ask her a question? What kind of a question would make Diana the nervous wreck she sounded moments earlier? After a few rounds of pacing around her room, Akko had a ridiculous thought.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What if… nah… unless—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Her phone vibrated again. In her hand this time. She immediately tapped to answer.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Diana?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Akko,” Diana replied quickly, as if going any slower would reveal her lack of confidence.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Are you alright now—”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Diana asked in a tone that was an unnatural mix between confidence and the lack thereof.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko’s heart skipped a beat. Did she just… “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Please don’t make me ask again,” Diana pleaded in a breathy, meek voice.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Did you just… ask me out… on a date?” Akko asked, the words coming out of her mouth made her feel like she was having an out of body experience.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A moment, before Diana responded. “Yes. I believe I did.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko felt the heat rush to her cheeks. She silently thanked Diana that she decided to propose this over the phone rather than face-to-face. Since the night at the bar, Akko had known that her feelings for her friend weren’t just platonic. She hadn’t been quite sure as to what to do with them; a part of her wanted to see where her feelings would take her, but another part of her questioned whether this was really something that she should dive headfirst into—like she was wont to do with most things in life. It felt special, and Akko wanted to treat it as such.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wow—I—just wow,” Akko said absentmindedly. Honestly, she wasn’t meant to say that.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is—is that a rejection…?” Diana asked uncertainly with a hint of dejection.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit, Akko panicked internally. No! “God no!” Akko exclaimed. “No—I mean yes. Yes. Yes!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes?” Diana asked tentatively. Was it hope that Akko heard in her voice?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes!” Akko repeated enthusiastically. She even nodded fervently for emphasis, completely forgetting that Diana couldn’t see her.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“T-that’s amazing!—wonderful,” Diana corrected herself, with a hint of growing excitement in her voice that she tried to hold back. “That’s wonderful, Akko.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko could feel the goofiest smile on her face. “I’m—I’m happy that you asked me.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Shall we say, three pm tomorrow at the nearby cinema?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sounds good!” Akko answered without hesitation. Truthfully, she didn’t actually know whether she’ll be free at three tomorrow. But she didn’t care—she’d make sure she would be free tomorrow. At all costs.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Thankfully for her, tomorrow was a Saturday, so no classes.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Perfect. I’ll see you then, Akko,” Diana farewelled in a voice that sounded like honey to Akko’s ears.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Can’t wait!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>After Akko put her phone down, she jumped in celebration and pumped her fists as high in the air as possible. She should be grateful that she wasn’t tall enough to punch her ceiling.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>When she landed back down on earth, she felt an onslaught of nervousness crashing into her with the force of a tsunami.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unsurprisingly, Akko spent too long recollecting the events of the previous night in the shower. As she got out of the shower, she felt rather annoyed that even a shower that had turned her fingertips into prunes wasn’t enough to calm her down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko was so distracted that she didn’t realise that she had put her shirt on backwards until she Sucy snickered at her in the kitchen. When Akko realised this, she took off her shirt before putting it back on right in front of a mortified Sucy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Akko what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sucy exclaimed—well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>exclaimed</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the sense that her monotone voice had slightly more variation in pitch than usual.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?” Akko hummed absentmindedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Urgh,” Sucy waved her off dismissively as she carried her plate that held a mushroom sandwich out of the kitchen, while muttering something under her breath about not wanting to catch the disease that Akko had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte walked into the kitchen shortly after, just in time to witness the horror of Akko trying to microwave the previous night’s leftovers in the dishwasher.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was safe to say, the leftovers were no more. So Lotte banned Akko from entering the kitchen as she quickly whipped up her world-famous pancakes that tasted as sweet as the chef herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks Lotte,” Akko said sheepishly as she eyed the delicious plate of food that Lotte set down on the table in front of her. “It’s been really hard for me to focus this morning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte chuckled. “Of course. A date does that to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko perked up. “You’ve been on a date before?” she asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte shook her head. “My experiences of dates are limited to romance novels and fanfiction. But they’ve given me a lot to draw on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko had felt a little anxious telling her flatmates that Diana asked her out on a date. Sucy merely gagged in response, but was otherwise indifferent, which was to be expected. Sucy wanted to be spared the details of romance. As for Lotte, Akko had expected her friend to squeal in excitement or something, but instead Lotte gave Akko a soft, encouraging smile with a knowing twinkle in her eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Naturally, if there was anyone who could put Akko at ease, it was her Finnish friend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lotte,” she started. “Can I ask you something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her friend looked expectantly at Akko. “Of course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko bit into a pancake and chewed in deep thought, all the while Lotte watched in anticipation. She chewed and chewed as question after question popped up in Akko’s mind, until her brain spat out a single, cohesive question. “How do I not mess up this date?” Akko asked in an unsure voice. “I wanna make sure Diana has a good time so she’ll like me enough to have another date with me...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte set her own plate of pancakes down on the table as she took a seat. She smiled warmly at Akko. “Well… Diana did ask you out, so she’s probably happy as long as you’re having a good time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I have good times with Diana all the time,” Akko spoke as though that fact was a problem. “This is a </span>
  <em>
    <span>date.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And dates are special. So I really have no idea how it’s supposed to go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly,” Lotte began, “a date is really just you having a good time with the person that you like. Some people focus a lot on big romantic gestures, but I don’t think that they’re what make dates special.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko nodded slowly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah… that makes sense,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So really,” Lotte continued, “you’ve kinda gone on dates with Diana before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>What!?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Wait that doesn’t—” Akko suddenly shut her mouth as her mind finally grasped the semantics of Lotte’s revelatory words. Images of the way that Diana had smiled during the times that they had spent studying together on campus, or even during leisurely strolls that they sometimes shared, flashed through her mind. The relaxing demeanor that the blonde seemed to reserve for only her. The sweet chuckles that she would receive for her apparently amusing antics.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh fuck,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>she’s right.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I… think I kinda get what you mean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right? Since Diana has asked you on a date, it means that she really enjoys your company,” Lotte said. “So really, just be yourself, Akko. That’s what Diana really wants.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that Akko ever needed it, but this instance was a blaring reminder of why she loved Lotte. Akko gave her friend a smile that carried her warm appreciation for all that her friend had generously given her. “Thank you, Lotte.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No problem at all, Akko,” Lotte reassured with the welcoming aura of a saint. “I hope you have a lovely date today.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko gave her friend a goofy grin as she shoved another piece of pancake into her mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time in a long time, Akko was going to be early for something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was surprising not just because Akko tended to be late most of the time, but because she had spent a rather long time worrying over what she should wear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After nearly driving Lotte to the point of exhaustion, she had finally taken Lotte’s paradigm of “just be you” to heart. And to Akko, that meant jeans, a white T-shirt and a navy blue LNIT hoodie. There was no choice for footwear—Akko only wore sneakers that she would only replace if their structural integrity was not intact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Akko approached the cinema, she felt a tad proud at the fact that the session wasn’t to start until at least fifteen minutes later. And that didn’t count the ten or so minutes of advertisements and trailers that preceded the movie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever little pride that she had imploded on itself and collapsed into a black hole that sucked the confidence she gradually gained throughout the day, leaving the familiar sensations of nervousness in its wake as she saw a bewitching blonde waving at her near the entrance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Akko’s eyes drifted down, her eyes bathed in the casual elegance that exuded from Diana’s outfit. A tasteful white blouse under a black leather jacket. Diana wore light blue jeans that—unlike Akko’s—were pristine without any rips and white Vans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smile on Diana’s face made Akko’s insides feel warm, but it also echoed Akko’s own anxiousness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good afternoon, Akko,” Diana greeted softly. “I hope you’ve been well?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A little too formal, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akko thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s one of her nervous ticks.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Yeah I’ve had a good Saturday so far,” Akko said—not exactly truthfully since she had spent every waking second of her day worrying about her date with Diana. “But it’s about to get a whole lot better!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because of the movie?” Diana asked with a soft smile, perhaps encouraged by the thought that her choice of the movie was a good one.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I get to see you.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Smooth!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko congratulated herself internally. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re a tiger, Akko! Rawr!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s cheeks grew a shade of crimson as the faux confidence she had faltered. “Akko,” she began, trying to keep her voice even from the endearment and embarrassment that she felt. “Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>flirting</span>
  </em>
  <span> with me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... maybe?” Akko responded in an uncertain tone. “This is a date, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana looked as if she was out of her element. “Yes. Perhaps flirting is to be expected.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only if you’re comfortable,” Akko said quickly. “And it’s not like I’m any good at it!” She laughed sheepishly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Neither am I,” Diana said with a smile that looked a little less nervous. Her shoulders were less tense than before. It seemed that Akko’s open humility as well as consideration for Diana really helped to put the blonde at ease. It made her feel like she wasn’t going to be judged. Like she was safe to just be herself. “I suppose we’ll just figure it out together?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Together,” Akko echoed as she beamed at Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The girls entered the cinema with nothing but a bubble tea for Akko. They both figured that they should save their appetite for dinner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were early, but neither girl minded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You weren’t waiting for me back there for ages, right?” Akko asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… wasn’t,” Diana said with some guilt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh god you got here real early didn’t you,” Akko said, internally chastising herself for not having come even earlier. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Even when I’m early, I’m late, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>But then again, this is Diana.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If one looked closely enough, one could see that Diana was fidgeting with the tips of her fingers. “I just couldn’t stand the thought of making you wait,” she said while avoiding Akko’s gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko could not believe how adorable Diana was. She pushed her bubble tea in front of Diana, nearly making the other girl jump. “Here,” Akko enthusiastically offered. “For your troubles.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Akko, I really don’t—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>insist!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana looked at the adamant expression on Akko’s face, then down at the beverage, then at Akko again, then at the straw. She seemed to steel herself, and fixed Akko with a retired yet determined gaze as she drank from the straw where Akko’s lips had touched only moments ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko watched with a strange fixation as she felt weird, but strangely exhilarated. Once Diana finished her sip, she asked, “So, how was it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana took a moment as she chewed the pearls, before swallowing. She smiled at Akko. “It’s interesting—and good. Thank you for that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No problem!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko couldn’t help herself from taking another sip from her straw. She hoped that she didn’t come off as too eager.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We kissed! Indirectly!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko was too busy celebrating that fact to notice Diana watching her with a conflicted expression, as if she didn’t know how to appropriately feel about using the straw that her crush used, as well as her crush using the straw that she did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not long after, the movie trailers started playing, followed by the movie itself. There were about a dozen other people seated in the theater, but it was surprisingly empty for a Saturday. While it was convenient due to its proximity to the university, there were far fancier cinemas elsewhere in the city that were preferred by moviegoers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, Wonder Woman wasn’t a horror movie, so there weren’t any opportunities for Diana to be frightened enough to grab Akko’s hand, or for Akko to take Diana’s hand under the guise of being scared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that didn’t mean that Akko was going to give up!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She barely paid much attention to what was happening on screen as most of her mental focus was on trying to find the courage to reach for Diana’s hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We kissed indirectly,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so holding her hand should be a piece of cake! </span>
  </em>
  <span>Despite her flawless logic, she still found herself shaking a little as she made her hand move a millimetre closer to Diana’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>One millimetre down, a couple hundred more to go!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was definitely not an easy feat trying to celebrate such a marginal achievement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re Akko Kagari,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she motivated herself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>the girl who is halfway across the world from home in pursuit of your dream! You’re the defender of Chariot! You’re fearless! You’re—</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko groaned in frustration of her inability to roll up her sleeves and take the hand of the girl she liked, the girl who had been the one to initiate the date. Thankfully, it was during a scene in which Diana got hurt on screen, so Diana probably thought that Akko was really into the movie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hold up,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko’s mind did a mental spit take, </span>
  <em>
    <span>the main character in this movie is called Diana too!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She immediately nudged Diana’s hand—her Diana </span>
  <em>
    <span>(wait, my Diana!?)</span>
  </em>
  <span>—with her own. She felt Diana’s twitch slightly, but she pushed on. “Hey Diana?” Akko whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm? Yes?” Diana whispered back, clearly not expecting a conversation in the middle of the movie. Or perhaps she was taken by surprise by her contact with Akko’s hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look pretty in this movie,” Akko said, her nervousness masked by her almost flirty tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana chuckled. Akko wished the theater wasn’t so dark so she could see Diana’s expression. Was she blushing? Akko would never know. “I wish I was that pretty,” Diana leaned in towards Akko and whispered in a playful tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re prettier,” Akko responded in a heartbeat. That earned her a squeeze from Diana’s hand on her own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neither girl moved their hand from the other’s even after their brief conversation subsided.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re a smooth criminal, Akko! </span>
  </em>
  <span>She internally patted herself on the back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Holding her hand, Akko prayed that Diana wouldn’t be put off by how clammy it was from her previous anxiety. But really, she couldn’t tell if that was from her or Diana. Akko didn’t care, and it seemed neither did Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Having achieved what she had sought after and basking in the bliss of the physical contact, Akko enjoyed the rest of the movie intertwined with Diana’s fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the session concluded, the girls stood from their seats and stretched. As they walked out, Akko’s hand felt cold. She longed for the warmth that she had lost.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you enjoy the film?” Diana asked as they exited the cinema.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was pretty good,” Akko replied with a smile. “Did you choose it just for me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana looked slightly sheepish. “I must admit I did. I thought it was a decent film myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah for sure! Although the fight at the end was kinda over the top.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought so too,” Diana said as she nodded. “I also thought that the antagonist’s motivations were lacking and bland.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, right?” Akko agreed enthusiastically. As they walked towards the campus, Akko saw a poster for another movie on the side of the cinema. “Oh! I really wanna see this movie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Blade Runner 2049? I very much would like to as well, actually. I enjoyed the original, and the cinematography looks breathtaking,” Diana said, before an expression of regret formed etched onto her features. “Perhaps I should have taken us to that film instead…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko would have none of it. She took Diana’s hand, snapping the girl out of her train of thought, and with cheery optimism said, “I guess we already know what we’re doing for our next date, then!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Initially, Diana’s idea was to catch a ride from Luna Nova campus to the city for dinner. It was generally easier to be picked up from the campus as opposed to the cinema, and it was only a short walk anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But by the time they had reached the campus, neither girl was hungry yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Diana began, as if she was at a loss since her preconceived plans didn’t seem to suit the circumstances. “Is there anything you’d like to do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Actually, how about we talk to the city instead?” Akko suggested.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana seemed surprised by the thought. “I’ve… never actually done that before. Would that not be tiring for you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you kidding?” Akko slapped her thigh and said, “You bet these bad boys can handle it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s eyes wandered to the other girl’s thighs and doubt seemed to be the furthest thing from her thoughts. “Then let’s go, shall we?” Diana said with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In fact, Akko preferred walking to the city. Not only did it save commuting costs, she also enjoyed the relaxing stroll through the bustling city. Naturally, since she knew the way better than Diana did, she led the both of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko took the quieter streets that avoided the main road, so the obnoxious urban traffic didn’t get in the way of the two of them conversing comfortably. The conversations flowed naturally and pleasantly. Walking always helped Akko think and feel comfortably. Perhaps it had something to do with how the changing landscapes and environments aided the flow of her thoughts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They spoke about their upbringing in their respective countries, where they wanted to go in the future, their outlooks on life, and much more. These were the kind of conversations that might have been awkward for either of them if they were in a quiet little room, but in a leisurely stroll through the maze-like backstreets that Akko was familiar with, they had felt like the most comforting conversations the girls would have.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Through the conversations, they found that they had a lot in common. They each pursued dreams that could only be achieved through perseverance, ignoring the naysayers that doubted them along the way. Their pursuits were both noble and for the good of anyone and everyone, whether that’s creating affordable medical technologies or worlds that people could find joy in. And in sharing some of their experiences as children, they each understood a loneliness that the other felt at one point or another.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was validating to their </span>
  <em>
    <span>souls.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It was like speaking a language that only they shared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the differences that they had were only sources of encouragement. They each recognised qualities that they desired in the other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their hands would sometimes break apart when walking through narrow streets or crowds, but they would always find each other again, settling in the home that each had found.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before long, they reached a charming little urban park that was situated near the heart of the city. They sat on wooden seats that faced the ever flowing fountains and continued talking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko felt bold. “So… when did you start liking me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana most definitely did not feel emboldened by that question. She took a moment to centre herself as well as to contemplate on an answer. “I think… at least before that night at the Claiomh Solais. Perhaps even as early as that meeting we had back in Lyonne Park when we made apologies to one another.” Diana turned her gaze from the waters to Akko’s eyes. “What about you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>realised</span>
  </em>
  <span> that I liked you since the bar,” Akko answered, before falling into introspection. “But… I think I might have felt it before that and just didn’t realise what it was. I can’t really say for how long. But even back when we were bickering and all, you stood out to me. Not always in a bad way. If you know what I mean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana wore a scandalised look that was betrayed by her amused eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? What do you mean by ‘oh’?” Akko suddenly sounded panicked, clearly taking Diana’s reaction more seriously than Diana had intended. “I-I don’t mean it like that! Whatever it is that you’re thinking of! Like yeah I thought you were kinda really smart and pretty and all but I swear I haven’t dreamt about you and me in that way and oh my god I’m speaking too much aren’t I god damn it I’m so sorry—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana couldn’t hold it back anymore. Her giggling quickly grew to laughter as she covered her mouth with her hand. Akko’s face felt hot, but she barely paid it any attention as she was captivated by the alluring tones of Diana’s laughter. It made her feel warm within, even through the early evening chills. Akko chuckled at herself as she beamed at Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before they knew it, the sun was setting and they decided that it was time to have dinner. Diana booked reservations at an Italian restaurant, reservations which she pushed back due to having gone on a stroll after the movies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a fancy restaurant where patrons customised their own pasta and watched the chefs cook it in front of them. Admittedly, the wait for their pasta was a little long as they had to wait their turns and line up, but eventually they made it to their table from which they could order cocktails using their phones.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unsurprisingly, Diana refused to let Akko pay a single cent. She was very well-off, and Akko was aware of this, but that didn’t stop Akko from feeling a little bad, especially since she was enjoying a dinner that would usually set her back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They ate their dinner at a snail’s pace as they took in as much of the other as possible, from their conversation as well as simply being in each other’s company. They both wanted to not only savour their food, but also the evening as much as they could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At some point, a rather polite and charming magician came to their table and offered to perform some magic tricks. Diana had never experienced this herself during her previous visits of this restaurant, but she counted herself lucky given the bubbling wonder that she saw in those red eyes. It was safe to say that Akko’s love of magic extended beyond The Legend of Arcturus.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time they left the restaurant, it was past nine. Diana ordered a ride for them via her phone, and it arrived within only a couple of minutes. The wonders of modern technology—although Akko wouldn’t have minded waiting a little longer with Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Throughout the ride, they sat hand in hand in comfortable silence, basking in each other’s presence as they took in the lively city streets at night that shone through the windows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana instructed the driver to wait outside of Akko’s flat. As Diana walked Akko to her door, Akko didn’t feel nervous at all. As if she could see a beautiful path ahead of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they stopped at the door, they stood close to one another—they could feel each other’s warmth. “I had an amazing time today,” Akko said softly, almost a whisper, as she didn’t want to break the surreal, magical aura that engulfed the two of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana smiled warmly. “I’m glad. And so did I.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I really like you, Diana,” Akko said unwaveringly. “Like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>like like.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I like like you, Diana. Will you go out with me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana chuckled as she squeezed Akko’s hand. “I feel very much the same, Akko. And I’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko smiled as she leaned in slowly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She smells sweet, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akko couldn’t help herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Like flowers.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And without an ounce of hesitation, Diana’s lips met Akko’s halfway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It felt</span>
  <em>
    <span> just right.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soft. Warm. Heavenly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A chaste kiss that carried a promise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t last very long, but its brevity didn’t at all diminish its perfection.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They waved goodnight as Diana walked back to her ride. Their eyes met one more time before Diana entered the vehicle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko didn’t open her door until the car was out of sight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And when she did, she saw a Lotte that was on the verge of exploding with elation for her.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>omg they did it!!!</p>
<p>(also I legit forgot that Wonder Woman's name is Diana until that point where Akko realised LOL)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Long Distance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Even in the cold, Diana was warm with affection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she walked arm in arm with Akko through the snowy night, the cold was nothing but an afterthought compared to the brunette who wore an oversized orange windbreaker that was passed down from her okaasan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana couldn’t think of a place in the world that she wanted to be more than next to Akko in the frozen streets. The street lamps lit the path with an almost amber hue. It added an even more dreamlike quality to the surreal moment. Somehow, the vacant streets did not diminish the unique atmosphere that came with Christmas Eve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had felt like the months had snuck up on Diana as she dove into her days with the newfound perspective that came with dating Atsuko Kagari. She couldn’t believe that a single day had passed with Akko as her girlfriend. Then a week. Then a month.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But at times, the days felt neverending, like blissful dreams that stretched the distance between the seconds. Like when Diana would help explain something to Akko during their countless study sessions, and her blue eyes would watch in fascination as she sees a tinkle in those deep red orbs that shines with comprehension and gratitude. Like when Akko’s expression would be anticipating—and adorable—as she watches Diana taste her cooking, only to turn into pure joy as she sees Diana’s genuine smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Diana! Diana—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That was all the warning she received before she was tackled by a blur of brunette hair by the side into a hug.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana was barely able to keep her phone from flying from her hand.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“A-Akko?” Diana squeaked out in surprise as her legs fought to keep her upright.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Ohmygodyouwon’tbelieveitIdon’tbelieveit—” Akko all but verbally vomited with excessive excitement.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Passers-by turned their heads to glance at the girls curiously, but no-one paid any mind.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was the day that results for the semester were released. Diana organised to meet up with Akko in the morning to visit an art gallery in the city. She thought that it would be a nice outing to not only spend time with her girlfriend, but also to unwind together if Akko wasn’t happy with her results.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Contrary to what Diana had initially thought of Akko when she had first met her, Akko enjoyed the arts. She appreciated the work that artists put into them, as well as the places that art can take the viewer. She was even starting to be more open to the thought-provoking kinds of art, and Diana was going to do her darn best to encourage Akko’s explorations in that area.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’ve seen your results?” Diana asked, still having an Akko wrapped around her body like the bandages on a mummy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko retracted a little to meet Diana’s eyes. In that moment, Diana could see the culmination of months of hard work and weeks of anxious waiting in Akko’s eyes. It was elation and relief.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I know I said that I wouldn’t peek at my results until you got here but I couldn’t help it!” Akko exclaimed animatedly. “I couldn’t stop fidgeting and stuff and I didn’t know whether I could take it if I got disappointed in front of you without bracing myself and the next thing I knew my phone was already unlocked and on the uni portal and—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Akko,” Diana cut her rambling girlfriend off. “Take a deep breath.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko took a much needed but perhaps unnecessarily large breath, held it for a length long enough to be a cause for concern, then released it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She then took another large breath. “So yeah I had a peek at my results and oh my god I kinda did super well like yeah I felt like I worked harder this semester but I was kinda anxious anyway because you never know but—”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana leaned in and placed a quick kiss on Akko’s lips to shut her up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Unfortunately, it short-circuited Akko’s brain since she didn’t expect to feel soft, warm lips on hers while rambling about academics.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I—uh—I-I” Akko stammered, roleplaying dial-up internet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana chuckled. “Will you show me?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko nodded as she held her phone to Diana.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>After a brief second, Diana looked back into Akko’s eyes, which had been studying her expression, with a mixture of pride and affection. “I knew you could do it,” she said softly with a smile.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko’s eyes gleamed with appreciation. “It was because of you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana gazed into the red ocean, pouring the contents of her heart that Akko had sowed. The ocean stirred fervently in response.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You should see yourself the way I do.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Time slowed in those moments as Diana filed them deep into her memories, to be replayed over and over again when she wasn’t with Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Being in a relationship was a new experience for both of them. Trying out new things with another person who was as scary as it was exciting, but having the knowledge that it was the same for each other helped pave through much of the awkwardness with solidarity.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Warmth.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hands exploring arms and clothed backs.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sitting on Akko’s bed that was admittedly cramped, their lips familiarised with one another, meeting and parting and meeting and parting in a duet that repeated its beats indefinitely.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They breathed heavily as their hearts raced to match the excitement that they felt.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It wasn’t just purely physical. They felt close in more ways than one.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Intimacy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It wasn’t something that Diana had ever felt before. The same could be said for Akko, she supposed. This entirely foreign feeling was heady and exhilarating.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She had never felt as close to anyone as she did with Akko in this moment.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For in this moment, she wasn’t Diana Cavendish, the ever composed, invulnerable woman who people respected from afar.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But rather, she was Diana, an inexperienced girl who wanted to share new experiences with the girl who had turned her life upside down. The girl who had sowed the seeds inside her heart that Diana had once thought was barren, which had blossomed into insuppressible feelings that made Diana feel alive.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She was the Diana that was letting her vulnerability display as she moved without much of the grace that she was usually known for, all to learn how to please Akko as well as herself.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For once, she gave herself into desire with another.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And it felt good.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It felt heavenly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>After some time that neither girl kept track of, Diana pulled away. She could now see the light flush over Akko’s face, and realised that she herself likely also wore the same colour, if the heat that she felt was anything to go by.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko looked at her in bemusement. “Diana? What’s wrong?” she asked with mild concern.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nothing. Everything is good. Really good,” Diana replied as she regained her breath.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Then…?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana paused for a moment, before asking in embarrassment, “Akko, do you mind if we tried… tongue?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko suddenly took in a deep breath through her nose that didn’t escape Diana’s notice. “Um. Wow,” Akko said, perhaps to herself, before breaking into a sultry smile with mischievous eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How does she look so… tempting? Diana’s thought as her heart pounded.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Didn’t know you were so adventurous, Miss Cavendish,” Akko said suggestively.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana glared at her, hoping that her eyes didn’t betray her feelings at being referred to as ‘Miss Cavendish’ in that tone by Akko. “That better be a yes,” Diana said breathlessly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The moment she saw Akko nod, Diana leaned in.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It started like the countless kisses that they shared before, only this time, Akko broke the precedent by parting her lips, giving Diana’s tongue an entrance to meet a new part of Akko.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The thought of sharing saliva with someone else is a weird one to Diana every hour of the day, Except this one. In this hour and in the present company, it was intoxicating.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At first, the inexperience from both girls meant that their movements were clumsy. Chaotic. Messy, even.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But priding herself as a fast learner, Diana soon settled into a comfortable rhyme with Akko, and their pleasure spiked.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Touch. Taste. Smell. Sound. All of these senses were as equally sated as they were insatiable.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The exception was sight. Both girls closed their eyes, which only served to heighten the other sensations through which they experienced one another.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Without even consciously realising it, Diana had wrapped her arms around Akko and clung tighter, and Akko had done the same.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana had never felt as close to anyone as she did with Akko at that moment.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>It was almost scary to Diana how comfortable and how </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko’s presence felt in her life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana wasn’t even entirely sure if she was herself anymore. If one’s identity is defined by their worldviews, preferences, and the choices they would make given the circumstances they were presented with, then the Diana Cavendish she was now was not the same Diana from before she had met Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But one thing was certain. Diana was happier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Treading through the snow by Akko’s side in comfortable silence, she felt fulfilled. As if the indescribable feeling of emptiness that she had felt for years had finally receded. Like she had been missing Akko this whole time, despite not knowing who the girl was until months before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had left Last Wednesday’s at around eleven. It was their Christmas Eve celebration with their remaining friends who had yet to go home for the holidays. Amanda and Sucy were, unsurprisingly, staying around for the winter break. Constanze was also staying around to finish a mechatronics engineering project before returning to Munich. Jasminka and Lotte had left a week after their final exams. And of course, Hannah and Barbara tagged along since they weren’t going anywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko had booked her flight home to be during the middle of the first week after New Year’s. She reasoned with her parents that it was cheaper that way, and that she wanted to spend more time with her friends. Both of which are not necessarily untrue, but the </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> reason was that she wanted to spend more time with Diana, especially without any academic pressure on her part.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their evening in the pub had been rather relaxed. Not any different from how Akko’s friends would usually spend their time in Last Wednesday’s—although Diana bought fancier cocktails for Akko, a stark contrast to the cheap beer and cider that she usually would have with her friends. Nowadays, Amanda and Hannah were on amicable terms, although Diana could have sworn that there was still residual awkwardness lingering in the air. It was felt whenever she saw a mischievous twinkle in Amanda’s eyes, as if she was about to tease Hannah or deliver the usual rowdy banter that she had with her other friends, that would be gone anticlimactically the next second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An improvement nevertheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko knew that Diana didn’t particularly enjoy staying out too late, so without even being prompted, Akko had offered to leave with her despite Diana not having shown any indication of wanting to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>During that moment, all Diana could think in her head was about her amazing and considerate and thoughtful and understanding Akko was. She gave Akko a peck on her lips when they had left the front entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana had offered to arrange a ride for the both of them to her place, but Akko instead suggested that they walked. Even through the winter chill, Akko wanted to stroll through the white streets with Diana, who was only happy to oblige.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko’s enthusiasm for life was infectious. Being with her, Diana was starting to appreciate the smaller things in life. Simple things that could bring joy or inspire beauty, that she would have overlooked before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After fifteen or so minutes, they reached Diana’s flat, where Diana kicked off her black boots and took off her grey coat, while Akko ran for Diana’s room the moment her sneakers were off of her feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana could only smile as she heard a thump on her bed as she walked towards her room. Akko’s antics were as endearing to her as they were amusing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she walked through her own door, she saw Akko lying on her bed facedown, her brunette hair scattered across Diana’s pillow. She could hear Akko sigh into it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Comfortable?” Diana asked in amusement as she sat at the edge of the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” came Akko’s muffled voice. “It smells like you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana quirked an eyebrow. “I’m glad you like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> it.” Akko flipped herself onto her back and yawned before she could say anything more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps we should turn in for the night,” Diana offered as she stood up. “Would you like to shower first? I showered before we went out so I don’t need it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah. I showered in the morning,” Akko replied. “Plus, it’s pretty cold right now. I’d rather be snuggled in bed with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana grabbed a spare set of pyjamas and placed it near Akko on the bed. “Alright then. I’m going to use the bathroom first. You can change into these while waiting for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You better not peek!” Akko called out as Diana walked into her bathroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before the bathroom door closed, an exhausted “I know” slipped through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Diana exited her bathroom, Akko was already half asleep. She felt slightly bad for rousing Akko out of her peaceful rest, but she knew that she’d be doing Akko a favour by making sure that she used the bathroom before sleeping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a minute of talking Akko into it, she finally begrudgingly got out of Diana’s bed and shuffled into the bathroom. Diana took the time to neatly fold Akko’s clothes which had been scattered messily on the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Akko had come back, Diana was already waiting in bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Having the warmth of another body under the covers was a much better alternative to leaving the heater on during wintry nights, Diana now firmly believed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They kissed and exchanged goodnights before they allowed their tiredness to give way to slumber.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana vaguely remembered letting her arm rest across Akko’s waist moments before she fell asleep.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Diana woke up, Akko was still asleep, her brunette hair splayed messily around her. Given that she had nowhere to be on Christmas morning, she was content to indulge herself by appreciating Akko’s relaxed expression as she played with a lock of brunette hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What should have been a cold morning was warm and snug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana wished that she could wake up to this every day for the rest of her life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t sure how long the quiet bliss lasted, but eventually, Akko’s eyes fluttered open as they fought against the last vestiges of sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning,” Diana whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko’s red eyes looked at Diana through their daze. “Mornin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you sleep well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Always with you,” Akko replied without any trace of embarrassment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana chuckled. “Romantic.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko smiled for a moment, before her eyes blinked with a realisation that chased away the remaining tiredness. “It’s Christmas morning!” she said excitedly as she leaned upwards, supported by her arms as she looked back down into blue eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And here I thought you’d appreciate sleeping in,” Diana said with faux exasperation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko leaned back down and brought her face close to Diana and enclosed her face in dark brown curtains of hair, causing a gasp to escape from the other girl’s lips in sudden anticipation. “Not this morning. I can’t wait to give you your present!” She pecked Diana’s lips and smiled in self-satisfaction when she lifted herself up and saw the reaction in those ocean eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on!” Akko said as she got out of the bed. She pulled the covers off from Diana’s body and smirked as her eyes roamed freely. Despite wearing sleepwear appropriate for the British winter, Diana still felt naked as she instinctively grabbed the covers in knee-jerk embarrassment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Does letting her do this to me qualify as a Christmas gift? </span>
  </em>
  <span>She thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko ran out of her room before Diana could say anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Diana finished using her bathroom and changed into jeans and a turtleneck, she was greeted by the sight of Akko watching Christmas morning TV in the living room. Diana told Akko that she could change in her room since she was done with it, but Akko shook her head and said that she was “comfy” in the pyjamas that Diana had given her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hannah and Barbara left shortly after breakfast to visit their families. But not before exchanging celebratory words and giving the couple expensive chocolates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was safe to say, Akko was ecstatic and hugged them with enough force to choke a small horse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sitting near the small yet tasteful Christmas tree that Barbara had purchased for the previous year, Diana offered to give Akko her gift first. She walked back into her room and took out the pristinely wrapped package that was sizable and heavy enough for her to strain a little. When she handed it to Akko, she told Akko not to shake it for clues with a severe look in her eyes that communicated her seriousness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana was never good at picking out and giving gifts to people, because there weren’t many people nor occasions in her life that motivated her enough to do so. But she thought that Akko could do with a new laptop to run the programs she needed for university as well as game development.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana had expected various reactions from her girlfriend. But what she didn’t expect was a dozen seconds of speechlessness and a hanging jaw, followed by tears under red orbs that threatened to spill. Akko gently placed the package on the floor and hugged Diana in affection and gratitude. Her voice was wobbly when she expressed that this was too much, and that she felt guilty for accepting it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was only when Diana had emphasized the sheer magnitude of her wealth using easy-to-grasp metaphors that Akko stopped crying and vowed to take care of the laptop as she would with a baby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko looked sheepish when she dug a small box from her bag and handed it to Diana, explaining that Diana’s gift dwarfed Akko’s present for her. Diana reassured that she wasn’t expecting anything, and that she would cherish whatever she received from her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Diana unwrapped and opened the box, she saw a pendant made of a spiral seashell that was snowy white. She thought that it was charming. And when Akko had explained that it was a shell that she found on a beach earlier that year with her friends, and had polished it and made it into a sturdy pendant with the help of Constanze, Diana found the gift to be immensely touching.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt silly that she didn’t put in the effort to personally make something for Akko. To give Akko something truly unique and meaningful beyond just practicality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana supposed that that made them even. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she corrected herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Akko upstaged me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>For the several more days that Akko remained in England, Diana rarely took off her pendant.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diana saw Akko off at the airport. Their farewell embrace lasted long enough for Diana to worry over Akko missing her plane. Akko had tears in her eyes as she looked back at Diana past the gates.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana, however, gave a smile that promised their reunion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she returned home to her flat that day, she felt an intense loneliness that had cut through the optimism that the New Year’s had brought a few days ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a combination of various things. Akko being on the plane back to Kyoto and not in Diana’s arms. Hannah and Barbara staying with their families for the holidays. The empty university campus. The biting cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had gotten too used to having people around her. Too used to Akko’s exuberance and affection.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was like the debilitating juxtaposition of stepping out of a hot shower on a wintry day. Or of being forced out of a rare spring in a vast, lifeless desert.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana held the seashell that hung from her neck. It helped to fill the emptiness she felt with beautiful promises and heartfelt sentiments. The cold shell brought her warmth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She supposed that she should be lucky to feel what she was feeling at that moment, because it validated the time that she had spent with Akko so far. That, truly, Akko gave Diana’s life what she had been missing. What she needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana felt purposeless without Akko. After all, her own friends were away and the university was having their holiday shutdown period.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What was she going to do, call Aunt Daryl?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought had made her shudder. It wasn’t even worth joking about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The real joke was that Dary actually called later that day, to ask whether Diana was coming back to the Cavendish estate. It was not an invitation, but rather a mere confirmation of intentions. After Diana told her that she wasn’t, Daryl asked about her “love life”. Diana really wasn’t in the mood. And even if she were, she wouldn’t discuss her relationship with Daryl just so her aunt could tease her about it, or worse, say disparaging things about Akko, someone who was short of the British aristocracy due to not fulfilling either of the two requirements; she was neither </span>
  <em>
    <span>British</span>
  </em>
  <span> or </span>
  <em>
    <span>aristocratic.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Hence, Diana ended the call rather early.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One can imagine the lifeline that Diana had felt when she saw the notifications on her phone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>22:47 Akko:</b>
  <span> sorry I just woke up LOL</span>
</p><p>
  <b>22:47 Akko:</b>
  <span> did u miss me ;)</span>
</p><p>
  <b>22:48 Akko:</b>
  <span> like I missed u o3o</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diana stayed up that rather late that night.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>If anyone had asked Diana, she would have said that the winter break was too long. Now that was a loaded statement that was sure to be offensive to your average university student, but Diana would fiercely defend it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> lonely without Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was as if Diana’s body—not just her mind—had grown accustomed to Akko. Occasionally, she would inexplicably smell a whiff of Akko’s scent. It happened a few times when she was walking through campus, or studying at the library. It happened at least a dozen times when she was at home in her room. Diana’s scientific mind could not explain this at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana secretly regretted that she didn’t convince Akko to leave an unwashed shirt over or something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She dreamt of Akko frequently, but this was expected. Her dreams were often nonsensical, but many times they would involve going on dates with Akko, or Akko bursting into her room and rambling incomprehensibly about something that had happened, or other equivalently normal things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes—more often that she would like to admit—Diana’s thoughts would linger too long on Akko, and her mind would drift to thoughts about her that were less pure. More amorous, </span>
  <em>
    <span>carnal.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, she resisted it and opted for showers that weren’t warm enough for the seasonal climate. But when her mind conjured memories of being physically close, making out with the girl that she was attracted to on every level, and images of the tacit promises that their relationship held, there was only so much Diana could take before she eventually surrendered and gave into her desires.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana didn’t quite know how to feel about it. It felt good. Breathtaking, even, as the true extent of her feelings for Akko were realised and released. But there was also guilt. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What would Akko think?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana had asked herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Would Akko hate me for using her in that way? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Diana didn’t know, and she was too afraid to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So like an addict, the withdrawal effects of not having Akko around were most definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>felt.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The small reprieve she had was that she and Akko talked daily. If they couldn’t do video calls, they would voice call. If they couldn’t do voice calls, they would exchange messages. Working around their time difference wasn’t easy, but it had meant that during their two calls a day, she would wish Akko a goodnight during the mornings, and receive one from Akko during the evenings before she would sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because Akko had known that she wasn’t going to be able to keep herself from revealing her newfound relationship from her parents, she decided to just come clean and tell her parents upfront.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Diana and Akko were rather anxious about how the conversation with Akko’s parents would go down. Akko was afraid of how her parents would react. Even loving parents could turn cruel if they felt like their child was causing them to lose face. Diana, on the other hand, was concerned for the hurt that Akko would experience if things went south, and afraid that she would lose Akko if her parents couldn’t accept her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought of losing Akko and the joy and affection that she brought to Diana’s life was a thought so painful to her that she wouldn’t allow herself to dwell on it. Because if she did, she could very well fall into a void that she couldn’t claw back from.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As it turned out, neither of the girls’ should have been worried, because otousan and okaasan weren’t surprised at all about their daughter’s sexuality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently the posters in Akko’s room of yuri manga and anime didn’t help in convincing her parents that she was straight. But their family had never had the conversation until now. Otousan was never quite bothered by the idea that his little girl liked other girls, but okaasan had been hopeful that it would be just a phase. In the end, they both acknowledged that Akko was their daughter, and her own happiness was the most important thing. After all, that was why they were supportive of Akko’s unorthodox career choice as well as her desire to study halfway across the world from them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a nerve-wracking experience for Diana to video call Akko’s parents. The one thing she had going for her was the fact that keeping composed even when she felt nervous with adrenaline was a skill that her upbringing had provided her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were very polite. It was all smiles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Diana couldn’t really tell whether they were keeping to etiquette or if they really were charmed by her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko had promised her that it was fine and that her parents were surprised that Akko had landed someone who was as refined and impressive (and beautiful?) as Diana. She figured that if Akko was fine with it, then she would be too. And indeed, it had felt as if an oppressive weight was lifted off of her chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apart from that, the holidays since Akko had gone had been rather uneventful. Of course, being the upcoming academic she was, Diana had yet another vacation research scholarship with Professor Meridies, so she still did a decent amount of work. Rather excitingly, the research that they had been working on over the last six months had proved to be promising, so Professor Meridies had tasked Diana with drafting a manuscript aimed at one of the top-publishing journals in the area of biomedical research.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Getting her name out there was an exhilarating prospect. Not only because of the idea that she was publishing genuine research that would be of interest to world-class researchers, but also due to the realisation that Diana would be making a measurable step towards the future that she had been preparing for her whole life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Given their fruitful time, Diana had been propositioned by Professor Meridies to do a masters thesis under her supervision before the end of the previous semester. That had been perfect, because Diana had been set on doing her masters program under her anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Croix,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana would mentally correct herself. Professor Meri—</span>
  <em>
    <span>Croix</span>
  </em>
  <span> had asked her to refer to her as such. “Calling me by my title makes me feel old,” she had said in a dry expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unsurprisingly, Diana’s application for her masters program at Luna Nova had gone through without a hitch. She heard back within the week—along with the award of an academic scholarship—whereas she heard that some of her peers waited over a month for a decision.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was it her academic track record or her Cavendish privilege that had given her such a red carpet reception into the prestigious program? Diana </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> hoped that it wasn’t the latter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>During her downtime in which she wasn’t talking to Akko or researching, she took the time to relax by reading some novels that had been on her backlog or attempting to watch TV shows that her friends suggested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Truth be told, Diana wasn’t very good at relaxing. She always tended to bury herself with work. So when she had free time on her hands, she usually either struggled to find something relaxing to do, or buried herself in more work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she was determined now to do the latter this time. Because Akko had asked her not to. “But Diana!” Akko had cried. “You need breaks. You gotta use the time you have now to take it easy.” And so Diana did. Or </span>
  <em>
    <span>tried </span>
  </em>
  <span>to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had replayed The Legend of Arcturus for the first time in many years under Akko’s suggestion. Better yet, she had livestreamed her playthrough for her girlfriend. That had been fun—even with Akko being a backseat gamer. “No Diana! You gotta use Metamorphie Faciesse to transform Fafnir into a weaker form so he can’t use his Insyder Traidingh attack!” Akko would say, or “Say it with me Diana! Shiny… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Arc!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Aside from The Legend of Arcturus, Diana would play the game that she and Akko had made during the previous semester. Their project had received excellent marks and Ursula had congratulated the girls personally. Akko had been beside herself with fulfillment and optimism. After all, with Diana, Akko had made a game that she was immensely proud of, and received praise from her </span>
  <em>
    <span>idol</span>
  </em>
  <span>—now </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> had been a shock when Akko had found out. Really, Akko was right about games being </span>
  <em>
    <span>fun.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Having a game that was fun to play had meant that Diana could sometimes pass the time with a glass of wine and enjoy what she had made with Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>During one night, well into her break, Diana sat on her chair in her room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wanted to do something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her last year had been… eye-opening? Life-changing? Diana wasn’t quite sure about how she would describe it. But it had been an important year to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So many things had happened. Things that she didn’t expect. Things that threw her off. Things that made her </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to do something. Something to make the year feel real—more real than the sweet, surreal dream that it felt like in her memories—so that Diana didn’t have to worry about waking up from it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Akko.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl who had turned her world upside down and shown just what she had been missing. Who had given Diana the affection that she so needed. Who had accepted Diana’s affections and cherished them as much as Diana cherished her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And so Diana decided to communicate her feelings and emotions in the only way she truly knew how.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To show Akko how she felt about her through the medium of experiences.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>the most romantic thing in the world is making a game for ur gf. dont @ me</p><p>also DIANA wtf?? how rich r u to give ur gf a laptop for christmas GOD DAMN</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Oasis, Part I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Akko was restless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She laid on her unmade bed. It was only a little past three in the afternoon, yet she was frustrated at the fact that the sun couldn’t set faster.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After all, it was only in the late evenings that she could talk to Diana. If she tried to contact her now, she would only be disturbing Diana’s beauty sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko didn’t want to abuse the trust that Diana had placed in her by not leaving her phone on silent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Akko was younger, she would revel in having nothing to do, because that would mean that she would have time to do the things she enjoyed, like playing The Legend of Arcturus, trying to write games, sketching fanart of Shiny Chariot, and so forth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But now, she couldn’t spend time with the person who she enjoyed being around the most. Everything in comparison seemed duller somehow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko wasn’t depressed. She just simply wished she could enjoy her break in Japan with Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wanted to show Diana her favourite spots in Kyoto. She wanted to show Diana her favourite hole-in-the-walls. She wanted to experience her first time drinking in Japan with Diana, since Akko was finally back in Japan and was </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the legal drinking age here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko sighed. There wasn’t any point in moping around about missing Diana. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akko thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m heels-over-head over that girl—wait, or is it “head-over-heels”? Ah who cares. It’s not like anyone can read my thoughts to laugh at me anyway!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There wasn’t any point in planking on her bed—she was finally back home in Kyoto, a thought that would have filled her with excitement in the previous semester when she felt a little homesick. She might as well take advantage of that fact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So grunting with effort, Akko raised her legs high in the air before swiftly bringing them down onto the floor, producing enough momentum to propel the rest of her upper body off of the bed. Standing there, upright, Akko felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>cool.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The only things there were missing were cool shades over her eyes and a Diana Cavendish to charm. Maybe she would record herself doing it again later for Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Looking outside her window, Akko saw that the skies were grey, but they weren’t threatening enough to warrant wearing clothes that hedged against the possibility of rain, so she put on her old brown sweater and a pair of warm jeans and a red beanie that was a birthday gift from her paternal grandmother over half a dozen years ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Walking out of her room and towards the front door, she saw that her mum was sitting on the couch, watching something on her phone, while her dad was browsing his computer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okaasan. Otousan,” Akko called out as she strode passed them. “I’m going out for a walk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will you be back for dinner?” okaasan asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah probably,” Akko replied. “Might get something to eat anyway though.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Otousan chuckled without taking his eyes off of the screen. “That sounds about right. Do you need any cash?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko checked her wallet. A bit over three thousand yen. “Nah. I have enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before she exited the front door, she heard “It’s cold” and “Be careful out there” from her parents.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko was happy that her relationship with her parents hadn’t changed after telling them that she was dating Diana. In her mind, that conversation was a terrifying one to have. But when she was having the conversation, it just felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>awkward.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Otousan was surprisingly nonchalant about it, although in hindsight that shouldn’t have been surprising at all—he was always the more relaxed and less conservative of her parents. With okaasan however, Akko knew that she probably still held onto some form of hope that her little girl would someday marry a man and give birth to Japanese grandchildren or whatever. So not hearing any complaints from okaasan was a blessing that Akko was glad to have.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko wouldn’t be surprised if otousan had placated okaasan behind closed doors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One thing that had helped is the fact that Diana was Diana; charming, well-mannered, elegant, intelligent, beautiful. So naturally, when her parents met her in a video call, there was no room for them to criticise Akko’s girlfriend. Akko could tell that her parents felt like that they were talking with someone who was of a classier breed, and so they gave Diana the reception that they would give to someone important. The same way that they might address their employers, or a politician.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In Akko’s mind, her parents likely thought that Diana was out of Akko’s league. And frankly, Akko would agree. But the only thing that her parents had remarked about Diana was “She seems like a nice girl,” and Akko was thankful that it was all they had said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The streets were dry. Akko counted herself lucky, since it had rained on four days of the previous week. As Akko walked through the familiar streets, she heard the traditional percussion that played from speakers that she couldn’t see. It sounded as if it was playing from every direction, impossible to get away from. Growing up in Kyoto, she was used to this. It even made the streets feel more homely now that she had been living overseas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The streets looked nothing like what she had become used to in England. They were a strange blend of traditional and suburban. On the side of the street that Akko walked on, the apartments and buildings were varying shades of grey, brown and brick-red. The sides of some of the buildings were littered by vending machines and small shops and restaurants, but every building was bordered by dozens of power lines supported by utility poles every dozen or so metres.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the other side of the street, however, was a towering wooden gate that had no doubt been erected many eras ago. Near the gate were stone pillars inscribed with kanji, and behind the gate, Akko could see Japanese maples that covered the hills beyond.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko decided to cross the street and walk under the majestic gate. She had been through it before. Many times, in fact. She knew the paths that branched out down the track intimately. She knew exactly which path to take in order to reach the grand shrine at the heart of the park. The scenic routes which would take one around the breathtaking pond, and into the best places to view the artfully kept park and the hills beyond.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t want to spend too long trekking through the park. Because kami-sama knew that Akko could easily spend the rest of her night here if she got too carried away by the countless winding paths that lead to hidden beauties. So Akko took the most efficient path for a brief stroll through the sanctuary.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took many photos with her phone. Of the trees. The hills. The koi fish. The turtles. The mise en scène that was crafted by a collaboration between the keepers and nature herself. Even of herself. All to show Diana later so she could have some semblance of experiencing her home with Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was well past four when Akko left the park. She vowed to return another day, since no parks in England could ever come close to the beauty and awe of the reserves in Japan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko had taken an exit out of the park that was different from the entrance that she had come from, and made her way towards the banks of Kamo River.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She held many memories of the river. Akko might have walked alongside it hundreds of times. She wouldn’t even be surprised if that number was in the thousands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was like returning to an old friend, one that had watched her grow from the little girl whose parents took her on picnics near them, to the woman that she was now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that Akko felt like a woman. She still felt like a girl who was trying to find her own way in the world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After several minutes of strolling along the river, Akko sat at the edge of an incline that touched the flowing water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was strange to think that this river was a constant in Akko’s life. It was an anchor that she would always come back to. Its unending movement represented not only the passage of time in Akko’s life, but also an inspiration—that Akko’s will should be as unceasing as the motions of the river.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After all, it was the river who Akko had vocally proclaimed her dream of becoming a creator who would bring joy to the hearts of others. Of being someone just like Chariot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who knew that Akko would one day meet Chariot in the flesh. Would meet the woman who shaped the person who Akko was today, and who had told her that she would support Akko on her journey however she could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was a strange experience for Akko to receive an email from her lecturer after her marks were released.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ursula had congratulated her on her fantastic results.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>While Akko had been happy reading her praise from Ursula, it felt almost a little insincere given that she was far from the top of the class.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>An ominous feeling sank in after reading the line that ended with “come visit my office sometime.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Post-traumatic stress disorder from her past associations with “visit” and “office” being used in the same sentence, probably. Whenever she had been invited to a teacher’s office in the past, it was never for anything good. Always reprimands for accidents or pranks, or solemn talks about her less than stellar academic performance or her unconventional career aspirations.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana had encouraged Akko to visit her favourite lecturer. Diana had told her that it sounded like a good thing. And Akko knew better than to question her girlfriend’s omniscience.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko had been mentally gathering the courage to knock on the door to Ursula’s office when she saw that it was already open. With Ursula busy typing away, not noticing the awkward brunette standing in her doorway.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“H-hi Ursula,” Akko squeaked out. Her voice cracked from her dry throat.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh, sorry I didn’t notice you sooner,” Ursula said kindly with a smile. “Come in. Take a seat.” She turned her chair away from her computer, as if whatever she was doing didn’t hold a handle to the significance of having Akko in her office.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Congratulations on your excellent mark in the course,” Ursula said as she raised her hands to lightly clap. “You deserved it, Akko. The amount of effort and heart you’ve put into the work really shows.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko blushed. She wasn’t used to being praised so openly. “T-thanks,” Akko said sheepishly as she scratched the back of her neck. “It was nothing. A lot of my peers did even better.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ursula looked as though she was scandalised by Akko’s trivialisation of her own efforts. “It wasn’t ‘nothing’, Akko. I won’t accept having you think that.” She leaned in a little. “I’ve seen your academic transcript—”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait, Akko panicked internally, lecturers can do that!? Isn’t that a breach of privacy or something?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“—and not to turn this into a discussion of academics, but your performance in my course sticks out like a sore thumb.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sorry—”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh no, please don’t apologise! It’s clear to me that you’re really passionate about game development. And that when you put your heart into something, you can do great things. Really, you remind me of myself.” Ursula had a faraway look in her eyes, as if she was reminiscing bittersweet times.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I—thank you,” Akko said with a soft, genuine smile. “I think I needed to hear that. It means a lot.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ursula gave her own smile in response. She seemed almost motherly at that moment. “I want to let you know that I’ve been where you are. My own grades weren’t so glamorous back then,” Ursula chuckled to herself. “If you ever need guidance on anything, let me know. I’d be more than happy to point you in the right direction in achieving your dreams.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko was floored. “I don’t know what to say. Really, thank you—”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>At that moment, her red eyes looked past Chariot and saw a small trophy. It wasn’t just any trophy. It was an award that she recognised instantly: the Best Indie Game award from the year that The Legend of Arcturus had won it. Chariot didn’t collect it in person, because they wanted to maintain their anonymity, having insisted that the game mattered more than the creator.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“—Chariot!?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ursula all of a sudden looked nervous, as if the confidence in the conviction she had declared earlier had suddenly vaporised by the dropping of that name. “Uh. Yes. That was the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ursula </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> Chariot. Akko had been studying under her idol this whole time. At that moment, Akko had been ecstatic and starstruck—as one usually were when they met their idol in the flesh. But that quickly turned into sombre understanding when Ursula explained her rise and fall as Chariot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The excitement, optimism and pride as tens of thousands of people found their own joy in a game that she had created.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The opportunities that her unexpected success gave her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The frustrations of having naively signed a contract that commodified her game in exchange for a </span>
  <em>
    <span>future </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the industry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And depression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All of it had culminated in loss. The loss of her artistic freedom in the world that she had brought to life. The loss of her confidence and optimism. The loss of Chariot. Of herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko didn’t want that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she gazed out onto the steadily flowing waters along the river, she knew what she wanted to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just like the waters of the Kamo River. They were always travelling in one direction at a singular pace. Comfortable. Neither slow nor fast. Akko had found inspiration in its nature. Taking Ursula’s moral to heart, Akko didn’t want to be a bright candle that burned too fast. She wanted to find her own way and go at her own pace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko sat along the bank of the river long enough to watch the sun turn red and set behind the mountains in the distance. No matter how many times Akko had seen this view, it always seemed picturesque—like the depictions of Japanese artists across the eras.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sunset had relinquished the natural light, which was replaced by the illumination from the shop, restaurants and bars that sat above the river banks. The lights reflected off of the surface of the water, providing an ethereal scene that made Akko feel like she was in another world entirely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko didn’t quite feel like going home yet, so she walked up a bridge and crossed it to the other side of Kamo river. The more urban side that had a livelier nightlife. The streets were bright, colourful. She had an idea of where she wanted to go, and brought up the digital map on her phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Walking through the tight and twisting alleyways, Akko stopped in front of a small restaurant—honestly, it probably also served as a home. Suddenly remembering that the last time she ate was more than four hours ago, she felt her stomach grumble and her eyes homed in on the takoyakis that were being cooked. She handed a thousand yen note to the old lady who tended the makeshift stand from behind the window, and after a minute or so, received a dozen takoyakis in return with a grateful smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko knew that she should enjoy the food slowly, as once she returned to England, there would be very little opportunity for this level of authenticity. But after the first takoyaki, she was reminded of just how hungry she had become from being out for hours, and couldn’t stop herself from mowing down the family of takoyakis in record time. She didn’t even sit on the stool outside of the quaint restaurant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After she finished—barely more than a couple of minutes—Akko continued her journey. She was after a bar. But not just any bar, a hidden gem that she had accidentally stumbled across online when she was googling what a moonwalk was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After about another five minutes of walking through the winding paths, Akko found herself in front of a creamy three-story building that was unremarkable—especially in comparison to the classier, taller and more modern buildings that it was surrounded by.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no way that Akko would have unintentionally stumbled across this particular bar, for the sole advertisement for it was visible only when she looked up and squinted: posters which were lined against the windows on the third floor.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>ALL DRINK 200 YEN</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>BAR MOONWALK</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>One of the posters had the art for the bar: a lady in a blue dress that leaned against the crescent moon, tangling stars in her hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko climbed the narrow stairs that were surely hazardous. She imagined that they would be particularly lethal for patrons who might have had too much to drink. Walking through the door, it was like a portal to a different world. The dimly lit place was fairly small for a bar. Synthwave music played through the speakers to the side. The drink rack behind the bartender was lit by vibrant neon colours.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was only one other patron in the bar, who looked like they were casually doing homework at the bar while nursing a colourful drink. The bartender greeted Akko and told her that she could sit anywhere she liked. Akko thanked the bartender and sat at a tiny table to the side. The bartender then walked up to her and handed a piece of paper that had their Wi-Fi name, password and a website address. He explained that food and drinks were to be ordered online via the address on the paper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko was excited by how convenient this was, as this meant she no longer had to try and fail to hide her ignorance of the different types and brands of alcohol in front of bartenders. It took her three times before she managed to type out the address correctly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Four hundred yen table charge? The two hundred yen price on drinks doesn’t include tax? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akko outraged internally. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And they’re charging how much for the fries? I guess that’s how they make their money!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko vowed to only buy drinks, as the food were most definitely overpriced.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The drinks were named in an interesting fashion. Akko decided to start with a Heaven and Hell, purely based on how colourful it looked in the picture. After placing her order, she saw the bartender get to it immediately. She watched in mesmerisation as he skillfully prepared her drink. She didn’t think that any bartender that had served her in England was as much of a pro as this young man who was surely no older than mid-thirties. He delivered the drink to Akko with the politeness one would expect from her compatriot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The glass wasn’t particularly wide, and there was a fairly large block of ice in her drink, so volume wise, there wasn’t that much. But then again, Akko was only paying two-hundred-and-sixteen yen—consumption tax included—for it. The top half of the glass was blue while the bottom half was dark red. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gosh this is so pretty!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko thought as she took a photo of it. When she mixed her drink with the straw provided, the colours mixed and became dark purple. As she took her first sip, she was hit with a fizzy sweetness that had a tang of spice from the vodka. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So it tastes as good as it looks!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Akko nursed her drink, she took in more of her surroundings. Posters of pop culture references, from Japan and overseas, lined the walls. The TV from behind the bartender played some surreal-looking anime on mute—a girl in a red dress and yellow jacket was doing a silly walk. Somehow, the surrealness of the anime worked well with the sensual electronic music that played.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko then noticed that there were ornaments on the ceiling. Toys and figurines somehow populated the space up there. A large train set too. Directly above the bar, she saw dozens and dozens of foreign notes stapled to the carpeted ceiling. Akko would have offered British notes, but she saw that there were already plenty of those up there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The place really felt special. Akko would have described it as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>mood.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She took a couple of photos with her phone to show Diana later.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Akko was waiting for her next drink—a tequila-based drink called Oasis—she saw a couple walk through the door hand-in-hand. After the bartender gave her her aqua drink, he greeted the couple at their table and gave them a paper that was similar to the one he had given to her earlier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sat on a couch together. After they received their drinks, they talked animatedly, as if they were the only two people in the room, lost in a world of their own. They were relaxed. The girl had an arm around him. He had a hand on her knee. Their eyes rarely left each other’s gazes. He said something and she laughed through a hand that she brought up to her mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>God.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko wished they were Diana and herself. Oh the things that she would have been willing to do in exchange for sharing the moment in this bar with Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wished that she could touch Diana right now, that she could rest her hand on Diana’s knee, or Diana’s hand on her’s, as they stared intensely into each other’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was that </span>
  <em>
    <span>weird?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It couldn’t have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> weird, since this couple, and many other couples out there, did things like that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko wanted to do that with Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And </span>
  <em>
    <span>more.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The physical aspect of her relationship with Diana had been slow, but that wasn’t really something that Akko regretted. It was evidence that they both cared for one another, that they were unwilling to do anything that made the other uncomfortable. After all, they were both new and inexperienced to this whole relationship thing, so exploring physical experiences with one another seemed like something monumental. Something that was sacred and to be treated with utmost respect and prudence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that didn’t mean that Akko didn’t want it. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>craved</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. And being with Diana all the time without indulging in it further had only served to strengthen the feelings. And now that Diana wasn’t around, Akko’s thoughts could run without inhibitions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana had given her so much. She had challenged Akko in a way that nobody had before. She had made Akko feel indescribable things in her heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet, Akko wanted more. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana. In every way possible.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, she wished it were her and Diana sitting on that couch, nursing pretty cocktails in the dim lighting that made everything feel more sensual. Every touch more electrifying than the last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko sighed. Maybe one day she could gain the courage to stop being uncertain and make the leap with Diana. She didn’t want to doubt Diana’s feelings for her, or her feelings for Diana, but this was really </span>
  <em>
    <span>serious</span>
  </em>
  <span> stuff. If there was even a sliver of doubt, then she had to be careful.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This wasn’t like everything else in life, where Akko would run head first with reckless abandon, with faith that everything would be alright. No, because she couldn’t allow room for regret. From Diana. Akko wouldn’t forgive herself if Diana did something that she would come to regret because of her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko sighed and decided to turn her gaze away from the lovey-dovey couple and watched the strange images on the TV. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe this is why some people don’t like public displays of affection,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought as she tried to sip from her glass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tried,</span>
  </em>
  <span> because it was empty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko decided to have one more drink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sex on the Beach?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko shrugged as she placed the order. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sure.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The drink was yellow towards the top and red-orange at the bottom. It had a nice fruity taste that reminded Akko of summer. She finished the drink after about a dozen minutes, and paid the bill in cash at the bar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The place was starting to fill up by the time she walked past the door. The steep, ominous set of stairs met Akko again, but this time, she was looking down from the top. It looked like a staircase into the void. Knowing her own clumsiness, she descended slowly. Breaking her leg and/or cracking her skull wasn’t exactly something she wanted when there was a beautiful girl waiting for her halfway across the world.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko decided to take the bus home rather than to backtrack, as her desire to walk the streets of Kyoto had been satiated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the bus, Akko bounced on her seat in anticipation and excitement of all the things that she would tell Diana later about her day, and of all the photos that she would show her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Akko’s alarm woke her up at 8:30am as usual. She sloppily slapped around for her phone to turn her blaring alarm off. Her body still wanted to sleep more, but she got up and went to wash her face in the bathroom anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A small price to pay to begin her mornings with Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But when she brushed her teeth and switched on the laptop that Diana had gifted her for Christmas, she saw the message from Diana.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>07:55 Diana:</b>
  <span> Sorry, but I won’t be around for your morning. I’ll be on later in your day, so we can talk then.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At that moment, Akko wished that she checked her messages on her phone instead, so she didn’t have to get out of bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was another message underneath that one.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>07:56 Diana:</b>
  <span> In the meantime, please check your email. Have a lovely day, Akko.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Email?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko was confused. And a little anxious. As she navigated to her email, she really hoped that it wasn’t going to be bad news or anything.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>Subject:</b> <em><span>For Akko</span></em></p>
<p><b>From:</b> <em><span>Diana Cavendish</span></em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She clicked on the email.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dear Akko,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There are a lot of things that I want to say to you, but I always struggle to put them into words in my head.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But I still want to try.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>So I tried in the only way I knew how.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I made this for you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Warmest regards,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sentence “I made this for you” was a hyperlink. Akko didn’t know what to expect when she clicked on it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The link led to a Google Drive zip folder called “For Akko”, which she promptly downloaded. It was several hundred megabytes. She extracted its contents. The UnityPlayer.dll made it clear that it was a game made in Unity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana… made a game for me?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko was shocked. She held her breath as she double-clicked For_Akko.exe.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Darkness.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There was nothing.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Before the pitch black gave way to a blinding white.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As the pure white lost its intensity and faded, shapes began to slowly formulate.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sounds.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The sound of a light breeze howling. The wind sporadically gained and lost its momentum, like the ebb and flow of waves.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Eventually, the shapes and colours and ambience settled and Akko found herself standing in the middle of a desert. The sky was covered in the grey of clouds that moved above her in a singular direction.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The desert had small dunes that stretched as far as Akko could see. As she looked around, she found that she was at the beginning of a concrete road. The pavement was cracked. It was unrestored and decaying.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If a road could ever have a life, then that life had been drained by death eons ago.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As every other direction was nothing but the vacantness of a sandy wasteland, Akko decided to follow the only road that was in front of her.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It felt like a significant amount of time had passed for Akko as she followed the road. The only indicator of her movement was the shift of the dunes as she walked.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There was something in the distance.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As Akko walked along the road, she saw it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>More concrete laced with decay.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Buildings that were crumbling.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Cars that were rusted, becoming nothing more than waste among a wasteland that didn’t seem to have an end.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Street signs that were bent and sticking out of the ground in sharp angles.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There was a droning ambience. It was as if the reverberations travelled across the desert landscape, carried by the wind. It was a song of ghosts. The notes held for so long that it was as if time itself was dilated. A haunting soundtrack to the haunting emptiness.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As Akko kept walking, the sporadic details of the remains of a civilisation culminated in a city block. The clustering of brutalist buildings was like a futile attempt of confronting decay as a sad pact. Each building looked as if they were far beyond the end of its life. Their structures were eroded to the extent where the mere fact that they were standing was surrealistic.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Where trees once stood were dead trunks and branches that swayed rather fragilely to the breeze, as if at any moment, their remaining arms would break off and be carried by the wind, forever lost in the infinite desert.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>This was not a city.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was lifeless and empty.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There was nothing there except decay. But the quality of decay implies that with enough time, even the remaining, desperate and fragile details will cease to be. And when there would be nothing left, decay itself would also cease to exist.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The emptiness was unsettling to Akko. It felt like a presence was there, or perhaps a presence should have been there, but there was nothing.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The ambient notes still played in long loops that made Akko feel like she was experiencing time in much the same way as the broken objects that she could see.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She felt sympathy for things that could not feel.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>After some time of exploring the city block that, to Akko, felt like she was visiting a graveyard, she saw something in the distance.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There was a tiny yet unmistakable blot of green among the backdrop of sand and grey.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko couldn’t help but be drawn to it. It was too different. It was a promise of something that wasn’t empty.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As she walked towards it, she noticed that the sky above the green spot was clear blue. A stark contrast to the grey that casted shadows above everywhere else.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She began to see something that she didn’t expect. Vegetation. Trees. Plants.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Life.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko eventually noticed that while it was predominantly a beautiful green, there were other vibrant colours. Some plants were red, orange, or even purple, giving them an otherworldly quality that enhanced the beauty of the oasis as well as its incongruity with its desolate surroundings.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It took some walking, during which Akko realised that the ambient sounds began to evolve. She heard birds chirping in the distance, waters flowing, leaves whistling against the wind. Sounds of life.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Even the ambient music began to sound somewhat livelier. The soundscape was brighter. The notes changed quicker as they harmonised with one another. Steady movement was felt in the music, distinct from the slower, sombre tone that had followed Akko as she roamed the landscape.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Soon, Akko found herself crossing the boundary of which the grains met plantlife. She was within the refuge from the loneliness of the landscapes that had surrounded her. This change was also felt in the chords that played.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was beautiful. Unlike when Akko had explored the deserted city block, which she had done so out of a feeling of necessity, she explored the sanctuary that she had found herself in with wonder. She walked among the plantlife, finding beautiful details that seemed to only exist for her.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Eventually, Akko reached the large spring that sat at the centre of the oasis. The moment she touched the water, the ambient music faded away. In the absence of the music, she heard the movements of the water and the whistling of leaves with clarity.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko really did feel like she was in another world. A world that was only for her.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Then, the sounds of an acoustic guitar faded in. It sounded beautiful, but what had sent shivers down Akko’s spine was the soft voice that accompanied the notes played by the guitar.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Circle of pine and red oak</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Circle of moss and fire smoke</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fan on the ceiling like a wheel spoke</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Push the clutch and I pull the choke</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wanna listen to the sound of you blinking</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wanna listen to your hands soothe</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Listen to your heart beating</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Listen to the way you move</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko ventured further into the spring. The water was clear, and she could see fishes of various colours frolicking about.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She looked around, and from the water, it looked like the spring was surrounded by nothing but the colours of life. There was no indication that she was in a desert at all.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And I don’t wanna talk about anything</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t wanna talk about anything</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I wanna kiss, kiss your eyes again</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wanna witness your eyes looking</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t wanna talk about anyone</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t wanna talk about anyone</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I wanna sleep in your car while you’re driving</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Lay in your lap when I’m crying</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Akko saw aqua light emitting from the centre of the spring. As Akko swam towards this light, she dove beneath the surface in pursuit of finding its source.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She saw it. The light seemed to be coming from a large tunnel beneath. The light seemed to be pulsating, like a heartbeat. Akko could feel herself being called towards it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Weren't we the stars in Heaven</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Weren't we the salt in the sea</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dragon in the new warm mountain</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Didn’t you believe in me?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You held me the whole way through</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But I couldn’t say the words like you</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I was scared, Indigo, but I wanted to</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I was scared, Indigo, but I wanted to</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It was hope in the face of uncertainty. Akko didn’t know what to expect when she dove into the bright tunnel, but she wasn’t worried. The oasis was a place where she felt safe. Where she felt a connection that spoke to her soul. It inspired the warm and exciting feelings that came with finding somewhere where she belonged.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There was nothing to be afraid of. Because this was for her. It felt right.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>As she leaped down into the tunnel that didn’t seem to have an end, the vibrant colours embraced her as the song approached its chorus for the final time.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Her vision gradually faded to white.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was no text for Akko to read.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she didn’t need anything more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because she </span>
  <em>
    <span>felt</span>
  </em>
  <span> it in perfect clarity. It made Akko feel almost overwhelmed with feelings of affection for Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because there was no room to doubt what Diana </span>
  <em>
    <span>felt</span>
  </em>
  <span> for Akko.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I love you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Adrianne Lenker - anything</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Cold Tea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>22:55 Diana:</b>
  <span> Sorry, but I won’t be on for your morning. I’ll be on later in your day, so we can talk then.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>22:56 Diana:</b>
  <span> In the meantime, please check your email. Have a lovely day Akko.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diana turned off mobile data on her phone and checked to make sure that it was on silent, before locking it and placing it on her bedside table. Despite her anticipation and the anxiety that it came with, she was determined not to check her messages until the morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wanted to watch Akko play the game that she made for her. She spent weeks making the game, slaving away at the </span>
  <em>
    <span>smallest</span>
  </em>
  <span> detail so that her creation could fulfil the experience that she had in her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The feelings that Akko invoked in her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s what Diana wanted to communicate through her art.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana didn’t know how she would feel if Akko didn’t get it. Of course, she wouldn’t blame Akko if that were the case. It was overly metaphorical. Self-indulgent, even.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it felt special.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because she made it for Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So the selfish part of Diana wanted Akko to receive what she was trying to communicate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Diana wanted to give Akko space to play and digest her game. And while Akko would be doing that, Diana would be an anxious mess. And so with that—rather fragile—resolve, Diana pulled the covers over herself and rested her head on her soft pillow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the hours that it took for Diana to fall asleep, hundreds—if not thousands—of thoughts swam through her head, keeping her mind restless and her body filled with adrenaline even as her soul longed for slumber.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Diana woke up, she felt awake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not well-rested, but simply awake, as though there was a pressing matter that she needed to tend to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t quite remember what she had dreamt about in the five or so hours in which she had slept, but it probably had Akko in it. And maybe a setting with water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana reached for her phone. Immediately after unlocking, she switched on her mobile data and tapped on her messaging app.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the fraction of a second that it took for the app to load, Diana felt a surge of anticipation that washed away all remnants of sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes quickly flickered to the most recent message, only to see—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>22:56 Diana:</b>
  <span> In the meantime, please check your email. Have a lovely day Akko.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nothing. No new messages from Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was strange. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Very</span>
  </em>
  <span> strange. Akko left Diana on </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> leave </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone</span>
  </em>
  <span> on seen if she could help it. She was the kind of girl who would respond to literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>—even if she didn’t understand anything about what she was responding to, which was exactly how she got roped into student politics at one point. Akko apparently happily campaigned for them anyway because they promised to lobby the university to lobby the transportation minister to grant international students transport concessions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So naturally, Diana began to grow worried. The logic is that if Akko could respond, then she would have. But since she didn’t, then that could only mean that Akko </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> respond. But why couldn’t Akko respond?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did something happen to her? Akko hadn’t even been online since she read my message. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Diana’s mind jumped to the most extreme of conclusions, and in turn, so did her heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I need to calm down,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There are many plausible reasons for why Akko might not have messaged me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Perhaps Akko didn’t get a chance to play Diana’s game. Perhaps a power outage happened in Akko’s neighbourhood and her phone died. Or maybe Akko got lost in the environment that she had created and was refusing to get back to Diana without finishing the game.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I supposed I can do nothing but wait,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana thought with a sigh. She placed her phone back on the bedside table and got up. The trembling of her fingers wasn’t due to the cold. She hoped that the mundane routine of making her bed and washing her face would quell the nervousness she felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana decided on a piece of fruit and some tea as breakfast. Given the adrenaline coursing through her system, she didn’t want to be sick. Soon after, she took her laptop and bag and headed towards the office that she had been provided for her vacation research.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thankfully, Diana was able to distract herself by engaging in her usual work—which had been mostly writing and revising the research manuscript under Croix’s supervision. It was normal for Croix to leave hundreds of comments on the drafts. But at least once every half an hour, Diana would check her phone for messages. Or, at this point, for any trace of Akko’s digital heartbeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But whatever anticipation Diana felt when she picked up her phone was always replaced by a feeling of disappointment and worry by the time she placed it back down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was like that for the rest of the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Diana returned to her flat, the sun had long since set. She was hungry, but she wasn’t in the mood to prepare a well-rounded and fulfilling meal. So, once again, she settled for pieces of fruit and tea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After finishing her meal that didn’t really qualify as dinner by anyone’s standards, she took a hot shower, during which she had decided that enough was enough. She would finally send Akko another message.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she returned to her room, she sat on her chair for a good five minutes before she decided on a sentence to send.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>20:09 Diana:</b>
  <span> Please let me know if you receive this message. I need to know that you’re alright.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Too solemn? Probably. But it would do. Diana was indeed feeling rather solemn about suddenly losing contact with Akko, so she felt that she needed to communicate it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surely, once Akko sees that Diana was worried, she’d definitely respond, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While waiting, Diana flicked open her laptop. She navigated to the folder where she saved all the photos that Akko sent her. She browsed through them, from photos of Akko’s journey on the plane to Kyoto—where she concerningly had a can of Kirin and a cup of black coffee on her tray at the same time—to the busy streets of Kyoto, to beautiful parks and reserves and shrines, to the many photos of Kamo river that Akko would send, to the dozens and dozens of adorable selfies, to that one quirky little bar that Akko went to, and much more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana found herself smiling and chuckling at the photos. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, I wish I was there with her,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana thought as she daydreamed about being with Akko in all of the photos. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe for our first trip—no that wouldn’t do. We ought to go somewhere where neither of us have been before. It should be an adventure for both of us.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana liked that. The thought of experiencing new things with Akko. She wasn’t really one for uncertainty, but somehow, it felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span> to walk into uncertainty with Akko. Because with Akko, they would be opportunities for beautiful memories.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Diana reached the end of the photos, she felt as though she had woken from a blissful dream. She felt dread as she checked her phone for the umpteenth time that day. And to her displeasure and worry, she had been proven right yet again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No new messages from Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a sigh, Diana decided to boot up the game that she and Akko made and launch her Spotify on shuffle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a strangely therapeutic way of passing the time so she could subdue her anxiety, at least a little, before she would turn in for the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The quicker that time passed, the sooner that Diana would get to talk to Akko once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Diana of the old really didn’t give the fun factor of games enough credit. She owed Akko for this one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she went to bed, she sent another message.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>22:23 Diana:</b>
  <span> I really need to hear that you’re okay…</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Diana didn’t receive any new messages by the time she got up the next morning. Whatever had happened to Akko, it most definitely hadn’t been planned, because she would have told Diana if that was the case.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then again, what part of Akko’s life was planned?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nevertheless, it was highly unusual, and even more concerning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana couldn’t call Akko’s parents, because she didn’t have their contacts. That one time she spoke to them was through Akko’s phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Should I call the Kyoto police?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana pondered rather seriously. She wasn’t exactly sure how she would do so. Should she call the local Kyoto police, or the so-called Kyoto Prefectural Headquarters that she found on Google?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The latter, of course, because Akko had never told Diana the exact part of Kyoto that her family lived in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And what would she even say? “Hello, there is a girl by the name of Atsuko Kagari who is missing in Kyoto,” Diana would say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know she’s missing?” the operator would ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because she isn’t responding to my messages, of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana would say in exasperation, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Diana imagined that the operator would promptly hang up on her, and maybe complain to their coworker over in the neighbouring cubicle that some foreigner was wasting their time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana rested her head in her hands. She was frustrated at not being able to do anything about her worrying over Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without evidence that Akko was in some sort of distress, the only thing that Diana could do was to go about her day as if she wasn’t plagued by frantic concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her morning research session had been horrendously unproductive. The words in the academic manuscripts just simply weren’t going into her head. And she had a backlog of hundreds of papers to go through as literature review for their own manuscript that Croix told her to go over and summarise in an email sent at 3am in the morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And how the </span>
  <em>
    <span>bloody hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> was that woman even functioning given her inhuman sleeping schedule? Diana had noticed rather early on that it wasn’t rare for Croix to send emails in the early hours of the morning. When Diana had asked her about it, Croix explained that she slept only five hours a day: from 10pm to 12am, then 3am to 6am. It was a schedule that the world-class academic had adopted in her late teens to maximise her productivity every day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sleeping is nothing but practice for death,” Croix had once said rather dismissively when Diana mentioned that not having regular long and contiguous hours of sleep is a risk factor for various health problems. “So what’s the point of living a long life if I spent a third of it playing dead anyway?” Diana couldn’t help but admit that there was a mathematical point there, however incomplete it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Croix had also added that not being a hundred percent awake had an effect that was akin to being slightly buzzed </span>
  <em>
    <span>all the time,</span>
  </em>
  <span> which helped with dealing with “imbecilic twerps masquerading as academics”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet, as Diana had no more than six hours of sleep for the previous nights, she couldn’t help but feel that Croix was wrong. Diana could barely focus on the world around her. Her fabled capacity to consume large amounts of knowledge was severely handicapped. Her hands shook slightly. And worst of all, the combination of her worries over Akko and her restlessness only served to make her even more agitated—she had half a mind to snap at some student who had accidentally dropped their pen in the hallway outside of her designated office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana knew what being slightly buzzed felt like, and this most </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although maybe it had to do with the fact that her anxiety had robbed her of a good rest even when she had been asleep. When Diana had woken up earlier that morning, she didn’t even feel like she had slept at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sandwich that she bought for lunch barely went down. Every swallow had been a chore that threatened to undo her efforts of making sure that her stomach wasn’t empty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana had eventually stopped checking her phone every half an hour. It was futile. Against her wishes, the pattern recurred. Diana knew enough about statistics to know that if there were no new messages from Akko in all of the instances that she had checked her phone over the past day and a half, then her null hypothesis that Akko had the means </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> the desire to communicate with her is statistically inconsistent with the observations and therefore should be rejected, in favour of its negation. That either Akko didn’t have the means to message back, or didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana didn’t know which would be worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She entertained both contingencies during her afternoon in lieu of giving the papers on her laptop screen the full attention that a rising start of an academic such as herself should.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Diana returned to her flat and saw that the round clock hanging on the wall of the living room read a quarter past five, she found it surprising that she couldn’t remember what she did that day when she took a moment to try.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>drained.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The source of her exhaustion stemmed largely from being worried for every conscious and unconscious second of her day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was unsustainable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So naturally, when she walked into her room, Diana collapsed onto her bed and her world blacked out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her body rested, but her exhaustion was deeper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her very </span>
  <em>
    <span>soul</span>
  </em>
  <span> was tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the overstressed neurons in her brain fired bioelectrical signals like a faulty powerline that couldn’t stop sparking, her mind conjured stressful illusions that robbed her of any real reprieve.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scenes of Diana chasing a brunette blur that seemed to be ever so out of reach, no matter how hard she pumped her legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Images of her running away from a shadow that grew closer and larger and eventually engulfed not only herself, but the entire world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Visions of that shadow consuming a brunette girl that couldn’t hear Diana’s soundless screams.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over and over, she was thrown into situations where she had no control. And this was Diana Cavendish, who was the very personification of lifelong planning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As she transitioned from one stressful situation to the next, she heard a faint echo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Echos that came in threes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first it was a whisper of a thunder that reverberated in the world that Diana’s mind had constructed for herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it repeated incessantly, becoming louder and louder. Each time, the sounds lost a little of their echo. Their formlessness faded gradually into comprehension.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It sounded like a wooden object being struck with a hard instrument.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the last thing Diana heard before she woke up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What a strange sound. She could still hear its remnants in her mind from the instance before she opened her eyes. Diana had experienced head exploding syndrome before, but that had just been an impossibly loud metallic bang that rang through her head and woke her up abruptly, leaving her in a state of panic. But whatever repeating noise she heard before waking up didn’t even remotely resemble that—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She heard it. And it was outside of her dreams this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Knocking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone was knocking on her door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frantically, and rather hard too, by the sounds of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Diana fell asleep wearing her turtleneck and grey trousers, she had a small reprieve in the form of the convenience that came with simply getting up from her bed and walking to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Naturally, Diana had been a little wary, since no one would knock on her door before at least texting her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heart stopped, before pumping rapidly as she peeked through the tiny glass on the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Old jeans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red jumper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Orange windbreaker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Face that looked a little pale from the cold.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red eyes that seemed to be impatient and jittery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A-Akko…?” Diana whispered to no one but herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn’t believe it. It seemed too much like the daydreams that she had every day. Perhaps Diana was still on her bed, still asleep, and this was just a good dream at the end of a string of awful ones?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atsuko Kagari. The girl Diana cared about the most. The girl who should have been on the other side of the world. The girl who Diana had been worried about for the last two days because she hadn’t heard from her and the thought that either Akko had stopped liking her or if something had happened to Akko was too much and—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana opened the door to Akko nearly knocking her fists on her forehead. Her red eyes widened with recognition as she saw Diana looking back at her with about as much astonishment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“D-Diana?” Akko stuttered. “I’m kinda surprised you opened the door.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana gave Akko a look that expressed her incredulity at that statement. “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>surprised?</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’m sorry Akko, but I don’t believe your surprise is even a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fraction</span>
  </em>
  <span> of mine at the fact that you’re standing here and not in Kyoto,” she spoke at a pace that almost matched how fast her heart raced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I uh… kinda flew here on a whim?” Akko’s voice became more and more unsure as that sentence progressed, as if she had slowly gained a sense of self-awareness from saying that aloud and only just realising how absurd it was to spontaneously appear on the other side of the world in less than forty-eight hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana blinked in response. After a moment, she took Akko’s hand and led her inside her flat with, “You must be freezing. I’ll make you some tea.” The cold that she felt from Akko’s fingers was evidence that her assessment was correct.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Diana led Akko inside, she gasped as she felt Akko pressed up against her back, her arms wrapping around Diana’s abdomen. “I missed you,” Akko said softly, yet her unbridled passion was almost tangible. “I couldn’t wait. I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to see you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana felt a warmth inside of her, as if her heart had melted into warm syrup. “I missed you too, Akko,” Diana whispered. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt Akko’s chuckle as vibrations on her back. “No. I do believe,” Akko said. “Because I felt it too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Akko set her luggage in the living room and sank dramatically into the couch, Diana began preparing tea. “I thought you were coming back next month,” she remarked. “When did you decide to come back earlier?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About two days ago,” Akko said as she took off her windbreaker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana stood at the entrance to the kitchen and looked at Akko in disbelief. “That’s—how did you manage to secure a flight in such a short notice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With a lot of struggle and sacrifice,” Akko responded. “I had to switch to a budget airline since they were the only airline that had spots that I could take. God the seats were so uncomfy.” She cringed at the memory as she stretched and yawned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana nodded. “What did your parents think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh. I kinda just told them that I was gonna leave when I already packed my bags,” Akko said sheepishly as she scratched the back of her neck. “Okaasan was a little upset, but otousan said that I was bored out of my mind anyway so he was fine with it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I hope that this won’t cause too much friction between Akko and her mother,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Diana thought. She nevertheless found it endearing that Akko would return on a whim to Diana because she missed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After the water boiled, Diana returned to the living room with two teacups and a teapot and poured a cup for Akko and herself. She sat next to Akko on the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko seemed all too happy to receive the warm drink. She blew at the tea enthusiastically to an extent that had made Diana feel vicariously lightheaded, before taking a sip. Diana had missed her girlfriend’s adorable little idiosyncrasies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Diana started after taking a sip of her own tea, “why did you come back so soon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko’s eyes seemed to gain an intensity that surprised Diana. “I played your game.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana’s breath hitched. The mention of her game from Akko caused all of her anticipation to come crashing back. “W-what did you think?” she asked nervously. It felt like the appraisal of her game by Akko was the most important judgement she would ever receive in her lifetime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>felt</span>
  </em>
  <span> it,” Akko said with earnestness. “I get the feelings that you were trying to portray. You made an experience that communicated how you feel about me. When I finished the game, I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>floored. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was beautiful. It meant so much to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana hung onto Akko’s every word with rapt attention. Akko took her hand and continued. “But most of all, I appreciate your courage by stepping out on a limb to </span>
  <em>
    <span>show</span>
  </em>
  <span> me how you feel. And so that’s why I’m here. Because you’ve already made a game for me and I couldn’t think of a better way to get my feelings for you across.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Akko…?” Diana said in a quiet voice, in fear of breaking the intimate spell that had been casted over them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With affectionate red eyes that spoke to Diana’s blue, Akko said, “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I love you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Those were the words that Diana heard from Akko’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those were the words that Diana wanted to tell Akko with her game.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt like their souls were synchronised in every way possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too—” the words barely left her lips before they were captured fervently by Akko’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hands slithered across backs and necks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lips that met each other’s, and parted from their own to deepen the kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Racing hearts that were close to one another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laboured breaths that could be felt by the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko parted to say, “I missed this,” to which Diana responded with, “So did I,” before capturing Akko’s lips yet again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you glad that I’m back?” Akko asked with a smirk in between the meeting of their lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana took Akko’s mouth passionately for a few moments, before pulling apart. “I hope that answered your question,” Diana said as she regained her breath. “Although I should let you know that not contacting me for two days was </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko looked confused. “What—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had thought that either you didn’t want to talk to me because I had upset you in some way, or worse, that something had happened to you that incapacitated your ability to contact me,” Diana vented, the tumultuous emotions from her frustrations and worries seeped into her voice. She was going to give her girlfriend a piece of her mind. “I could barely sleep. I could barely eat. I could barely </span>
  <em>
    <span>function.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Diana I’m so sorry—” Akko squeaked out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t do that to me ever again. Please, Akko,” Diana pleaded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I promise!” Akko responded in an instant. “But… it wasn’t intentional. I swear. I had been using my phone to organise everything in a rush, but eventually it died so I kinda just had to get by without it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana looked at Akko with a raised eyebrow. “Akko. You are aware that you can charge your phone at the airport, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh. Maybe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana chuckled. “It’s fine. I forgive you. All things considered, being right here with me is the best way to make it up to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a moment of silence, in which Akko seemed to consider something, before her hand stroked Diana’s arm gently. “Maybe… I could </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> make it up to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She isn’t suggesting… could she be…? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Diana suddenly felt a pool of heat inside her as her heart beated in anticipation at Akko’s implication. “Akko you don’t have to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I want to,” Akko softly declared as her eyes gazed at Diana’s unwaveringly. Diana could have sworn that Akko’s eyes grew darker. “I want to love you in every way possible, Diana—but only if you’re comfortable with having me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last part of what Akko said sounded a little more unsure. But Diana’s response wasn’t to reassure Akko, at least not completely. Because Diana would have been lying if she said that she didn’t want Akko in that moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go to my room,” Diana whispered. That might as well have been shouted, since she could see Akko’s sudden intake of breath from knowing with certainty where things were going. She took Akko by the hand and led her to her room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana had been aroused. That tends to happen when you heavily make out with your girlfriend, especially after not seeing her for a month. But Diana always tried to restrain her desires in her make out sessions with Akko, because pushing them to the back of her mind was a good way to make sure that she wouldn’t do something that Akko or herself would regret.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now, that arousal is at the forefront of her mind. Try as she might, she could not ignore it. Fanned by the fact that Akko also wanted what was to come, she felt an excitement that she had never felt before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Akko crossed the barrier into her room, Diana closed the door behind them. The moment the door closed, however, Akko gently pushed Diana against the door and captured her mouth passionately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The feeling of meeting Akko’s soft tongue in one of their mouths—which one, Diana couldn’t tell—felt heavenly, but truth be told, being pressed against a cold, hard surface that made wooden knocking sounds whenever Akko pressed against her wasn’t the most comfortable thing. But there was something </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot </span>
  </em>
  <span>about being pinned between Akko and a hard surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she allowed herself to indulge Akko like this for a little while longer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After some time, Diana broke from the kiss and brought her lips close to Akko’s ears. “Let’s move to my bed, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Atsuko.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko nodded, but not before Diana felt Akko shiver at her pronunciation of her name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But before they went onto Diana’s bed, Akko took Diana by her hands. “Are you sure, Diana?” she asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Diana replied with a soft smile. She didn’t feel like any other words were needed, as she could show Akko the extent of her certainty later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can I… touch you?” Akko asked in a tentative whisper as her eyes unashamedly travelled below Diana’s body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana’s breathing felt so heavy with anticipation that she could barely let out her breathy response. “Yes.” Some part of Diana’s mind felt strange that she was not as self-conscious as she would have thought about being in her room with a sexy girl checking her out and asking to feel her. Although she was a little nervous about what the experience would feel like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko must have somehow heard Diana’s affirmation, as her hand slowly travelled from Diana’s waist to her abdomen, as if asking Diana if she was sure. Diana studied Akko’s focused eyes and the subtle bite of the side of her lips. She realised that in that moment, she found Akko not as adorable or cute, but intoxicatingly attractive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana’s concentration was broken with the hitch of her breath as she felt the soft pressure of Akko’s fingers on the fabric over her breast. Akko’s fingers halted as she looked at Diana for an indication that she could continue, to which she received in the form of a small nod.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko’s other hand snaked behind Diana’s waist and back as her right hand explored the front of her body. Admittedly, Diana didn’t derive too much pleasure from the layers of fabric that she was wearing, but she was pleased by how much Akko was enjoying herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like me to take it off?” Diana asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry?” Akko’s attention had clearly been elsewhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana didn’t bother asking again. She slowly took off her turtleneck and dropped it on her table, followed by the white shirt that she wore underneath. She didn’t miss Akko stepping back for a better view of the show that Diana was giving her.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Only</span>
  </em>
  <span> for Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Diana. She fumbled with the clasp of the black bra for a couple of moments, likely thinking that it would have been romantic for her to finish undressing Diana, before Diana chuckled and unclasped her bra herself. The slightly embarrassed look on Akko’s face helped her feel less self-conscious about standing in front of her wearing nothing from her waist up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her girlfriend spent a moment admiring her body, before her hands resumed their exploration. The bare contact meant that Diana was no longer only feeling pressure, but she could feel Akko’s palms and fingertips moving along her skin. It felt more intense. She felt more sensitive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Her nipples were hard from a combination of the cold and the arousal and anticipation that had been coursing in her body for what felt like a millenia now. When Akko’s fingers first brushed across it, Diana let out a sound that was somewhere between a gasp and a moan. It sent a spike of pleasure throughout her body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The surprising sound was an encouragement to Akko. She began stimulating Diana with intentional fingers this time, before employing her other hand in her efforts. Diana had been too distracted in trying to quell any more embarrassing sounds that she might make from the ceaseless pleasurable sensations that Akko was giving her, that when Akko captured her mouth, the mixture of her broken concentration and overwhelmed senses led her to softly moaning into Akko’s mouth. Half of her wanted to just let go completely, while the other half still wanted to hold onto some semblance of elegance and grace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Akko stopped, and Diana felt disappointment. Akko gently pushed her onto the bed and placed a hand on the hip of her grey trousers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana received the message, and took them off. Akko’s eyes trailed along Diana’s legs, from her feet to her hips. She reached for Diana’s underwear when—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Diana said. Akko’s hand retracted instantly. “I want to see you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko stepped back from the bed and got to work immediately. She took off her jumper and dropped it onto the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not wearing a shirt underneath?” Diana remarked, without taking her eyes off of Akko’s body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope,” Akko responded as she shimmied out of her jeans.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Often wore shorts that showed too much leg, but for Diana, seeing Akko’s bare thigh in its full glory and the light pink underwear was something else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko was about to unclasp her white bra when Diana suddenly got off of her bed, reached behind Akko and unclasped it in one swift motion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Show-off,” Akko pouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana smirked at her in response before looking down to appreciate her girlfriend’s body. Akko felt warm under her touch. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”</span>
</p><p><span>Akko blushed. “So you’ve thought about me naked?” she teased. “That’s very </span><em><span>unbecoming</span></em><span> of you, Lady Caven—”</span> <span>Diana enjoyed the gasp that interrupted Akko’s tease as she brushed a nipple with her thumb.</span></p><p>
  <span>Once Akko recovered, she apparently had more queries for her girlfriend. “Have you ever touched yourself to—” Akko moaned as Diana pinched the nipple softly between a thumb and finger. She was having too much fun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! That’s not fair,” Akko said in faux indignance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.” Diana was not sorry. “And yes. Of course I have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was the fact that Diana was aroused as </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell</span>
  </em>
  <span> in that moment, but she didn’t feel as much guilt as she would have thought she would in admitting that. More than that, it came easily. There was something about being around Akko that made her feel safe in confiding things to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“God</span>
  </em>
  <span> that’s so hot,” Akko said. Diana didn’t really understand why Akko would find that hot. “I’ve done it to you too.” Diana </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> understood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko let Diana play with her a moment longer before she led her back to the bed. This time, Diana let Akko take her underwear off. She was embarrassed by how drenched her underwear was, but Akko made no comment. At least the black colour made it a little harder to see.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana had never let anyone see her naked like this before. She felt vulnerable. But at the same time, she felt safe with Akko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of the girls had any prior experiences, and their mutual lack of experience aided in making Diana feel comfortable. She felt a strange sense of satisfaction knowing that they would be each others’ firsts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana was about to reach for Akko’s underwear when Akko stopped her hand by the wrist. “I want to do it first,” she said softly as she met Diana’s eyes. “I want to show you how much I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana felt her heart melt at Akko’s words. She nodded, before resting her head on her pillow. One of Akko’s knees was to the side of Diana’s legs, while the other was in between. She captured Diana’s lips before she began.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Akko’s fingers trailed up her inner thigh, Diana felt her anticipation and arousal grow. When Akko’s fingers touched her where she needed it the most, she gasped as she felt a spike of pleasure that was at once too much and not enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko began her ministrations, and Diana felt pleasure assaulting her senses. Akko’s other hand caressed Diana wherever she could reach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana had never felt this close to anyone before. The intimacy was heady. She felt like her very soul was connected with Akko as they communicated their love and trust without words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Diana’s breaths were heavy with pleasure, Akko’s breaths were laboured with the effort she was putting in to give all she could to her. Her moans served as Akko’s guidance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana understood. Akko wanted to give Diana everything she could. Her affection. Her love. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Herself.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She was close. So close. Diana began rocking her hips as Akko redoubled her efforts. Akko leaned down and passionately kissed her. It had been sloppy as Diana couldn’t help but to moan into kiss, and her mind struggled to concentrate through the thick fog of pleasure. She gripped her pillow like her life depended on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before long, Diana felt herself at the edge of the plateau of her arousal, only to be pushed past the edge when Akko whispered intimately into her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I love you, Diana.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She felt waves and waves of white hot pleasure assaulting her senses as Akko guided her to ride out her orgasm. After the spasms receded, Diana felt her muscles turn into liquid as she felt the blissful afterglow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Akko wiped her hand on her abdomen as she smiled at Diana’s barely open eyes in satisfaction. “Was that as good as your fantasies?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana summoned what little energy she had left to roll her eyes. “No, it was better.” she said with a smile. “Just… give me a moment to recuperate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was that good, huh?” Akko teased as she laid down next to Diana.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. You were pretty good,” Diana responded, her eyes closed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about we take a nap?” Akko suggested. “You’re tired from being sleep deprived and from… what I just did to you. And I’m tired from jet lag. You can take care of me later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana opened her eyes to look at Akko. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s beautiful.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “That sounds like an amazing plan, Akko. I ought to thank you for being so considerate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can thank me after you wake up,” Akko said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Diana gave Akko a small kiss before pulling the covers over the both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will,” Diana said. “And love you too, Akko.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They fell asleep moments after, and didn’t wake up until the following morning, in which they found the cups of cold tea that they had forgotten in the living room.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. I Miss Chomsky, After All</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Akko hummed with the lively melody playing through her earbuds as she walked through the campus with a bounce in her step.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Were the other students who were walking near her annoyed? Akko had no idea. Because she paid no mind to any of that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why would she, when she was having a good day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A good week.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A good month.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Months.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, Akko was always an exuberant and optimistic girl even in the face of adversity, but lately, she wasn’t chirpy just because it was an aspect of Akko’s personality that she was known for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. She was the happiest she had ever been in her life because of a certain blonde who she loved with all her heart and loved her back. Who appreciated Akko for who she was. Who allowed Akko to shower her with affection, and return it ardently in her own unique way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Diana Cavendish.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko thanked the mysterious forces that governed the universe and tweaked the laws of physics </span>
  <em>
    <span>just right</span>
  </em>
  <span> so as to bestow her the opportunity of having crossed paths with Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was unfathomable just how small the odds were of them ever meeting. Infinitesimal. Yet here Akko was, able to easily recall the memories of Diana dancing for her at the Claiomh Solais. Of them confessing to one another. Of their first kiss. Of their first time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko laughed at how ridiculous the world was in granting her this improbable heaven of a reality. If even just a single detail about her life was changed, then maybe she would have never been able to meet Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few students that were walking in her vicinity turned to give Akko curious looks. For her part, Akko only felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>slightly</span>
  </em>
  <span> embarrassed. She really couldn’t help feeling blessed every time she thought of Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko walked into the IT building and took the elevator up to the office floor. She walked through the elevator door and took the familiar corners that she had become acquainted with. Soon, Akko was in front of a door with a familiar name plaque and knocked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come in,” came a muffled voice from the other side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko twisted the knob and pushed the door to reveal a blue-haired woman smiling back at her from over the piles of assignments that were yet to be marked on her desk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice to see you, Akko,” Ursula greeted. “How have you been?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve been </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> good!” Akko answered back enthusiastically as she plopped on the empty chair that was on the other side of Ursula’s desk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ursula chuckled. “You’ve been saying that every time I asked for the past month.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well it’s true! How have </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> been, Ursula?” Akko asked with unnecessary emphasis on the “you”.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, the usual,” Ursula sheepishly responded with a dismissive wave of her hand, as if she were only a recurring character in a story. “Unfortunately, being a full-time adult isn’t very exciting. I get too bogged down by things like insurance policies and employment contracts to really have any room for much else in my day-to-day life.” Ursula took off her glasses and began rubbing her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko watched as her mentor sighed while looking out of the window of her office. “That sounds… kinda depressing,” Akko admitted as she laid back into the chair. “It almost makes my struggles at uni seem fun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ursula turned back to Akko with one of those mature smiles that seemed a little sad. Was it something that every adult would be good at? “I sure hope it does. Really, you won’t know what you have until it’s gone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko could do nothing but nod wordlessly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But it sounds like you’re having a good time anyway,” Ursula continued in a lighted tone, as if realising that she was reminiscing lost time for a bit too long. “How are you going with coursework?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh. Going,” Akko deflated. “These courses get harder and harder every semester! The assignments just don’t stop coming. But it’s not too bad, because Diana has been helping me organise my studying schedule.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ursula smirked knowingly. “She sounds like a keeper.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh yeah definitely! She’s such a—wait a minute. Wait wait</span>
  <em>
    <span> wait,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko’s brain suddenly halted, having pieced together a new string of information within her synapses. “You know I’m dating Diana!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry if I’m prying a little,” Ursula chuckled like a teenager instigating a scandalous conversation in a school hallway. “But yes, of course I do. It’s not too hard to see your adorable hand-holding under the tables during my lectures last sem.” Akko sank further into the chair with embarrassment colouring her cheeks. “Plus, I’ve seen the two of you more than a few times around campus recently.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko felt like her cheeks were on fire. “O-oh…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ursula smiled warmly. “I’m happy for you two. Really. I’m glad that you girls found something so precious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“T-thanks, Ursula.” Akko didn’t know what to say. She still felt a little embarrassed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If it makes you feel better,” Ursula leaned a little, “I’m also dating someone on campus.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That piqued Akko’s interest. “Huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Diana’s masters supervisor, in fact,” Ursula revealed with a smile. “Now isn’t that something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko’s eyes widened. “What? No way! Diana’s crazy supervisor?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ursula lifted a brow. “I wouldn’t exactly call Croix crazy. Actually, maybe a little. I wouldn’t know—I’ve been with her for too long to know what normal looks like.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow… Did you guys meet at uni too?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ursula took a second to recall. “As a matter of fact, we did,” she said, sounding as if she herself was surprised by this fact. “But we didn’t start dating until long after uni finished. Until after the whole fiasco with the studio that shall not be named.” For the second time in their meeting, Ursula gazed out her window wistfully. “I wonder how things would have turned out if Croix and I got closer during uni.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> had nothing to say to that. This catch up with Ursula was heavier than she had expected.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I could give you any real advice, it’s this,” Ursula spoke firmly. “If you’ve found a slice of happiness, you should fight for it. Do all you can to keep it, because it’ll eventually grow and become something even more beautiful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The smile that Ursula gave Akko was genuine. It felt a little nostalgic, but Akko could tell that the sentiment that her mentor was trying to convey is one of hope and purpose. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She just wants me to be happy, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akko thought. “I’ll do my best.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s all I ask,” Ursula said as she leaned back into her chair. “So. How is your current project going?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From there, the conversation flowed in a way that was more familiar to Akko. She talked about her current endeavours in game development. In all honesty, it was questionable whether what Akko had in mind qualified as a project.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko only had ideas that she had been penning down whenever they came to her. Her experiences from working on a game with Diana taught her the value of not jumping into her favourite Unity editor without a single formulated thought in her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Strangely enough, even though Diana hadn’t been a fan of Potato S-Masher, which was a result of Akko’s conceptless approach, she said that there was a strange sense of artistic value in the way that Akko had naively tackled video game development. Something about being analogous to a painter who decided to just make any strokes that came to her mind, or a musician in an improv session.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Akko couldn’t tell if that was just Diana trying to console her from no longer harbouring much respect for her earlier works. As surprising as it sounds, it happened one night when Akko wanted to show Diana her older games. Akko had been ecstatic with the idea of exhibiting her creations that she had been proud of to Diana, who had been just as happy to be bestowed with another opportunity to see aspects of Akko.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But when Akko had launched the game that she made before Potato S-Masher—an action game about stick figures street fighting in the most over-the-top anime style possible—she started to feel not so great. It wasn’t even that she felt embarrassed showing her slapstick game to Diana—well, maybe a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little</span>
  </em>
  <span>—but rather, Akko began to realise that she didn’t really like her game. It felt pointless. Thoughtless. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Soulless.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Akko quit the game within minutes of playing and launched another one of her games. It was just as bad—no, even worse, because not only did it lack substance in much the same way as the previous game, it was even older, meaning that Akko’s technical craft was at a less developed point in time, and so the game didn’t even have goofy action sequences going for it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Akko didn’t always feel this way about her games. In fact, several months ago she would have had a blast playing her own games and reminiscing about the fun that she had making them. What had changed since then? A lot, evidently. Akko met someone who challenged her preconceived notions. Someone who opened her eyes to an entire dimension that was missing from her previous games. Someone who made a game with her that was something that she could never have conceived of herself, a game that felt meaningful and Akko was deeply fond of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A perspective shift. Akko had changed. She wasn’t the same person that she was when she had made these games. She couldn’t see them through those same eyes anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After the cycle of prematurely quitting a game and launching another repeated itself a couple iterations more, Diana asked Akko what was wrong. When Akko had told her how she felt, Diana offered that the games aren’t necessarily worthless, since they were a part of Akko’s growth as a budding game developer. That didn’t make Akko feel that much better, since it was really the loss of her own appreciation for her old games that bothered her, but she appreciated Diana’s sentiment anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So really, even though Akko only had vague ideas here and there with no tangible progress, she still felt like she was in some sort of a process for her next game. And Ursula wholeheartedly supported this view. So Akko didn’t feel bad at all about divulging to Ursula her headful of very half-baked ideas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After half an hour of Ursula mostly letting Akko brainstorm on her own and occasionally giving suggestions, Akko’s stomach grumbled. Thinking was a lot of hard work, and hard work made Akko hungry. She thanked Ursula for making time for her and exited her office.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she navigated herself out of the IT building, she took out her phone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>13:03 Akko:</b>
  <span> where r we having lunch??</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:03 Akko:</b>
  <span> i’m famoused</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:04 Sucy:</b>
  <span> *famished</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:04 Sucy:</b>
  <span> and being all up in Diana is not a pass to use fancy words</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:04 Lotte:</b>
  <span> Sucy!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:05 Sucy:</b>
  <span> thai</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:06 Akko:</b>
  <span> &gt;:((((</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:07 Akko:</b>
  <span> i sincerily apologise for my aristocratic eloquince but do not be intimidated for i am still an ardent supporter of the inevitable proletariat revolution against the bourgeousie. we have nothing to lose but our chains</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:07 Amanda:</b>
  <span> ok Akko u need to start using autocorrect</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:08 Amanda:</b>
  <span> and we went to thai like 2 days ago. leggo pub</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:08 Jasminka:</b>
  <span> I’m down for this</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:08 Constanze:</b>
  <span> +1</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:09 Akko:</b>
  <span> autocorrect is another word for “giving up” and i refuse to give up</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:09 Akko:</b>
  <span> ok!! see u all in 5</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Akko then opened another chat and tapped a message on her phone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>13:09 Akko:</b>
  <span> we’re having lunch at Last Wednesday’s if you wanna come?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Akko had been the first of her friends to get to the pub, since it was closer to the IT building than the other buildings where her friends had classes in. It was relatively empty. There were a few patrons enjoying lunch, but none of them were university students, who tended to seek the other options in and around Luna Nova Tech.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And really, the pub was a little dinghy and could do with a little more natural lighting and less stickier tables, but to Akko, the relaxed, intimate setting coupled with the fair prices significantly outstripped whatever cons she could think of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko ordered the chicken schnitzel with chips and sat at her friends’ favourite table with her food buzzer. Naturally, she dug out her phone.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>13:12 Diana:</b>
  <span> I’m a bit busy, Akko. I need to get this assignment out of the way. I’ll see you tonight?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>13:14 Akko:</b>
  <span> no worries! See u soon &lt;3</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Gosh, she’s working so hard, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Akko thought. Realistically, Diana has always worked very hard, but her masters program was a lot on her plate. LNIT was well-known for their prestigious biomedical engineering program, so it was unsurprising that the world-class academics that designed the masters program had their students working like hamsters in wheels. Apparently it was to cultivate the best graduate and research outcomes possible, but Akko didn’t understand why overloading students was thought of as a form of preparation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s busy schedule did leave Akko reminiscing the previous months where they had more time together. But in all honesty, Akko couldn’t really complain, because she was in a relationship with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Diana Cavendish.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The prettiest, smartest, kindest girl on campus, who loved her as much as Akko loved Diana.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Akko huffed in determination. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Guess it’s up to me to make sure Diana gets the downtime she needs!</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, Akko started scrolling through her daily dose of memes and giggling like a maniac. Until—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yo look who it is,” Amanda said boisterously all the way from the </span>
  <em>
    <span>entrance. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“It’s our resident ladykiller herself!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda, Jasminka and Constanze walked over to Akko’s table. Constanze greeted her with a salute while Jasminka said, “Hi, Akko.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko waved enthusiastically at her friends, before turning a confused gaze to Amanda. “I didn’t kill any ladies,” she denied the allegation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda was about to admit that she walked right into that one, before remembering that chances are, it wasn’t that Akko was a master of wit, but rather that she was someone who often missed the forest for the trees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What would you guys like? I can order for you,” Jasminka offered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Their American burger with chips,” Amanda responded. “And a glass of the cheapest lager.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How about you, Conze? Steak with mash?” Jasminka asked Constanze, to which she received a thumbs up in response. “I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda turned to Akko. “So, how’s your sugar mommy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s not my sugar mum!” Akko responded indignantly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you have to say sugar </span>
  <em>
    <span>mom,</span>
  </em>
  <span> otherwise it doesn’t make any sense,” Amanda corrected, generously giving Akko free American education.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She’s not my sugar </span>
  <em>
    <span>mom!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda looked like she didn’t believe her. “Are you implying that she doesn’t try to pay for everything? ‘Cause one look at her and even a blind person can tell that she’s the kind to do that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay yeah you might have a point there,” Akko capitulated. “But it’s not like I ask for it! The best I can do is offer to pay for my share once every once in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>while…”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda wore a shit-eating grin that Akko had no power over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But yeah. She’s been really busy since she started her masters,” Akko said. “Which sucks, but it’s what she wants to do so she’s fine with it. We also don’t have any classes together anymore. But we still see each other outside of class. I’m seeing her tonight, actually!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda nodded. “Yeah. It really do be like that sometimes,” she said before she smirked. “Try to keep it down for Hannah and Barbara’s sakes, would’ya? Hannah did mention to me that Diana’s bed squeaks.” Amanda waggled her eyebrows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, but her bed doesn’t even squeak that loudly! Unless…” Akko’s eyes widened. “Either I never really noticed or Diana’s walls are thin. Huh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda looked amused. “Well. I don’t blame you for not noticing. I probably wouldn’t either if I—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay let’s not continue this cursed conversation,” Sucy said with disgust as she approached the table with Lotte. “My appetite has already shrunk by the prospect of pub food and hearing about </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> makes me reconsider whether I even want dinner tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I echo the latter half of that sentiment,” Jasminka said as she returned to the table somehow carrying a food buzzer, Amanda’s lager, a jug of water and five glasses. It was almost as if she was the protagonist of some elementary school maths problem.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte’s cheeks were slightly red from being privy to what the conversation had been about. “Hey guys,” she greeted. A round of greetings and waves were exchanged. After leaving their bags on their chairs, Lotte and Sucy went to order at the bar.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Speaking of Hannah,” Akko started, “how are things with her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko shrugged. “You know?” She gestured wildly. “I don’t know. You guys didn’t get along last year, but now that Diana and I are going out, are you guys okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda rolled her eyes at the purposeless inquiry from Akko. “Yeah we’re fine I guess. No bad blood.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s good!” Akko beamed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aren’t you guys friends now?” Jasminka asked. Akko’s head snapped to Jasminka before whipping back to Amanda, giving the latter girl a look of surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda seemed taken aback by Jasminka’s remark. The Russian girl wasn’t usually one for teasing, but Amanda could swear that this is as close to that as she would ever get to hear. “M-maybe? I’m not really sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That earned her curious looks from around the table. “Yeah look I really don’t know what to say here,” Amanda said, feeling slightly defensive. “We’re getting along okay whenever we see each other. There’s no bickering, so that’s good. But there’s no bantering too. So yes, we’re fine, but she’s not really a friend in the same way that you guys are friends to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko nodded. “Yeah I think I know what you mean. But who knows what could happen?” she asked rhetorically with immense optimism. “Maybe you guys will get closer and suddenly you find yourselves to be way past being just ‘friends’!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Amanda regarded the dreamy look on Akko’s face with disgust. “This is the sort of thing I’d expect Lotte to say,” she remarked. “But you’re projecting harder than me thinking that every girl is gay enough to hit on—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do that!?” Akko nearly shouted in shock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And anyway, the whole drama started in the first place because I tried to hit on Hannah. So if I want things to go smoothly it makes no sense to pretend like that’s a possibility,” Amanda said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Jasminka hummed in appreciation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Constanze scribbled something on her notepad before holding it up: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sounds like you’ve learnt something.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s really mature of you,” Lotte said as she and Sucy came back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Amanda said, right before taking a large swig from her glass of beer that seemed to wilfully contradict everyone’s compliments about her maturity.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sucy cackled. “Never change, Amanda.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. Perfection can only change to imperfection,” Amanda said confidently as she ran her hand through her hair before resting her arm on the back of her chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before long, the food buzzers started going off one by one, signifying to the girls that their food was ready. As usual, Amanda complained that her burger wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>American</span>
  </em>
  <span> enough, which was surprisingly enough a complaint that only Akko understood. Because Akko had tried American burgers that one time Amanda took her to a fancy burger place in the city, and eating that had made Akko feel immensely tired and done with burgers for at least half a year.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After finishing their meals, the girls sat and chatted around the table about whatever benign topics that popped into their heads. It was always like that with their crew, and Akko wouldn’t want to change any part of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the end of the hour approached, they exited the pub in pursuit of their next classes. Akko was counting down the minutes before she could see Diana.</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The project management lecture could not pass by any slower.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If Akko didn’t know any better, she would have guessed that the sharply dressed fellow standing in front of the podium was an investment banker or something, with his bright red tie covering a collar button that was almost surely done and blazer and pants matching shades of blue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wasn’t really sure why agile methodology is a thing that’s being taught in a third year unit. Surely, it’s nothing but commonsense? Like why would you not do things incrementally? It seemed a bit weird to Akko that her family is paying a fortune for her to sit through this course. As much as Akko was loath to admit, she’d rather take another course on data structures or on the Chomsky hierarchy than this fluffy professional development course, because at least in the former case, she would get her money’s worth of education. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I miss Chomsky, after all.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh well, at least the so-called agile manifesto was cool, because it almost sounded like The Communist Manifesto. Not that Akko had read it of course. When someone from the Socialist Society tried to lend Akko a copy of The Communist Manifesto, she handed it right back to the nice girl when she read up to the word “hitherto” in the very first page.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait, kuso!</span>
  </em>
  <span> Akko was suddenly struck with a thought that caused her to jerk in her seat, disrupting a few students around her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Was that girl hitting on me back then?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Thinking back to that time, Akko vaguely recalled that the conversation that led up to the girl offering to lend her a copy of the book was about the Japanese working class. “Wow, your unique background is so insightful!” the other girl had said with a beaming smile. Akko also could swear that she read from somewhere that lending someone a book is a good way to secure a date, because you’d eventually have to retrieve the book from them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>… or maybe the girl just wanted to recruit her into Socialist Society. Akko would never know, because she declined loaning the book from the girl. It was weird thinking that Akko </span>
  <em>
    <span>just might </span>
  </em>
  <span>have been roped into a relationship earlier in her university life had she done something as simple as accepting a book. But really, it was a blessing that she didn’t. Because if Akko had entered into a relationship, then she probably wouldn’t have had the chance to embark on one with Diana. So in a way, Akko had been saving herself for Diana. That was a cute thought in Akko’s mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Akko’s final class finished, she had no idea what happened in the last ten minutes of it, because she zoned right out. Akko packed up her study materials in record time and rushed out of the lecture hall. There might have been eyes that curiously followed Akko as she rushed out of the hall, but she could spare no thought, for she had something much more important to consider.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She had a plan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, Akko had a plan. Nevermind that she had only come up with the plan in the past hour.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to be late to Diana’s flat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it would be worth it, so she took out her phone and tapped a message to Diana.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>16:02 Akko:</b>
  <span> hey Diana, I’m gonna be a little late</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>16:02 Akko:</b>
  <span> I have something I gotta do</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>16:04 Diana:</b>
  <span> No problem. If you’re too busy we can see each other tomorrow instead?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>16:05 Akko:</b>
  <span> NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>16:05 Akko:</b>
  <span> I WILL SEE U TONITE DIANA</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>16:05 Akko:</b>
  <span> NO POWER IN THE VERSE CAN STOP ME</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>16:06 Diana:</b>
  <span> I appreciate your enthusiasm, Akko. See you soon!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Akko arrived home, only Lotte was there typing away at her laptop on the couch. Whether it was an assignment or fanfiction, Akko could only guess. Soft music played from the TV speakers, which Akko immediately recognised as the soundtrack to the film adaptation of the first volume of Nightfall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, Akko,” Lotte greeted. “Hope your classes went well?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Lotte. Yeah they were the usual,” Akko responded as she dropped her bag on the floor next to the couch. “Oh yeah, do you think you could help me cook tonight?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte looked confused. “I thought it was my turn to make dinner?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well… I’m seeing Diana tonight so I thought it might be a good idea if I made dinner so I can bring some over to her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte’s expression suddenly took on one of excitement. “Oh that sounds so romantic Akko! Of course I’ll help. Let’s go.” Lotte marched into the kitchen with a scarily determined look in her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko hadn’t even told Lotte what she wanted to make.</span>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Lotte!” Akko said as she carefully placed two containers of warm food into her bag.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lotte smiled kindly at Akko as she stood at the entrance to the kitchen. “No worries, Akko! And thank you for the dinner too. It saved me a lot of effort and,” Lotte took a whiff, “it smells absolutely delicious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko beamed at Lotte, feeling satisfied that her rather impromptu idea was mutually beneficial. “I’m glad! And we did it in record ti—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Akko turned her gaze to the clock hanging above the TV, a panic overtook her mine. “Oh crap, I gotta get going!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have a wonderful night, Akko!” Lotte called out after Akko as the latter girl rushed to put on her shoes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You too!” Akko said. As she opened the door, she nearly bumped into Sucy. “Oh hi Sucy look I got to go because Diana has probably been waiting a long time for me but Lotte and I made dinner okay bye!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sucy could only blink as a blur of brunette hair rushed past her face. The turbulence in the air that followed was strong enough to blow her bangs out of place for a second, momentarily revealing her left eye that was often hidden from the world. “What a strange wind,” she said as she shrugged and walked into her flat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko practically powerwalked to Diana’s place. By the time she got there, the sun was setting, marking the beginning of the night. She rapped her knuckles on the wooden door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was Hannah who opened the door. “Well well well. Someone’s late,” she said with an eyebrow raised and her arms folded across her chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko smiled sheepishly. “Yeah… But only because I was doing something special for Diana.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now Hannah’s interest was piqued. “And what might that be—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Akko!” Diana called out from the hallway. She wore a genuine smile at seeing Akko that tugged at Akko’s heartstrings. </span>
  <em>
    <span>If Diana was a violinist, I would be her violin, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wait, that’s kinda weirdly s</span>
  </em>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She said she was late because she was doing something </span>
  <em>
    <span>special</span>
  </em>
  <span> for you,” Hannah said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That made Barbara poke her head out of her room, like a baby bird hearing the chirping of their mother, signifying that they were about to be fed a meal. In Barbara’s case, a meal of pure sappiness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?” Diana looked at Akko with faux disbelief. “And what special thing might Akko possibly do for me that would make up for the hour that she was late?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah interjected with amusement. “Okay. That sounded </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> too suggestive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana rolled her eyes at Hannah. “I didn’t mean it that way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now Akko was imagining it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh dear.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was going downhill. And fast. She needed to say something right now—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A meal,” Akko said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no,” Barbara said from the hallway. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“She’s eating Japanese.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh god,” Hannah could barely contain her laughter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana hid her burning face behind her hands. “Akko, why would you say—”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No no no nonono—I mean it! I made dinner for us!” Akko cried in embarrassment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Diana’s face reappeared as her hands retracted. “That’s… very sweet of you. Were you late because you spent the time preparing dinner for us?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko nodded profusely. “Yup! I had help from Lotte of course, otherwise it would have taken even longer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana turned to her flatmates. “I blame you girls for sullying this romantic moment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re sorry,” Hannah apologised disingenuously, her amusement almost seeped into her voice. “I’m guessing you didn’t make enough for all of us?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uhh… About that…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah don’t worry about it Akko,” Barbara said. “We were ordering out anyway.” She waved before ducking back into her room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko looked visibly relieved. “Next time though, I promise!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hannah began walking back to her room. “Have fun you lovebirds.” She stopped right before entering her room. “Maybe not </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> much fun,” she said with a mix of amusement and seriousness before walking into her room and closing the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana pinched the bridge of her nose. “Sometimes, I wonder why I still live with these rascals.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because you love them,” Akko answered simply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana smiled at Akko. There was endearment in her eyes. “You’re not wrong. And most of all, I love you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you too,” Akko said before reaching for a chaste kiss. “C’mon, let’s eat while it’s still warm!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko made katsu curry. In all honesty, her idea of making dinner for Diana had been rather sudden, so she didn’t have much of a choice but to default to Japanese curry. It was simple and tasty. Diana prepared some tea to go with the meal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They ate in comfortable conversations about their day. Diana reassured that she wasn’t bothered by Akko’s lateless, and that she had used that time productively.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a wonderful meal with pleasant company. Akko was glad that she did this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Afterwards, Diana offered to wash the containers and cutleries, before they headed over to Diana’s room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait. I too can offer a little surprise for you,” Diana said while Akko took a seat on her chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko watched as Diana left the room and felt a tinge of anticipation. Diana wasn’t really a spontaneous person, but the fact that she was starting to try was evidence of the impact that Akko was having on Diana’s life. And it was a positive one—she was really glad that she wasn’t dragging Diana down by any means.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Akko waited, she spun around on Diana’s comfy desk chair. The room smelled like Diana, which relaxed her. She looked at the papers with incomprehensible scientific jargon on Diana’s desk like a target on a map that a military commander was considering to drone strike. It was her duty to ensure that Diana doesn’t look at those for the rest of the night. She turned her gaze to the wall, and her eyes softened at the pendant that hung neatly and safely above the desk. Akko felt good knowing that Diana would think of her whenever she looked up from her desk. She hoped that it brought Diana comfort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Diana came back, she held a bowl with green tea ice cream and two small spoons. “I was hoping to share this with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko’s eyes lit up. “Thanks so much Diana!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana settled herself on her bed as they dug into the ice cream. Eventually, Akko decided to spoon feed Diana. “Here comes the choo-choo train!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After Diana ate the ice cream from Akko’s spoon with slightly pink cheeks, she spoke. “That defeated the purpose of having two spoons.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your mistake for bringing two spoons when we only needed one,” Akko quipped back cheerily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s only response was to spoon feed Akko in return.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After they finished, Akko insisted that they watch Daily Dose of Cats on YouTube, before moving on to browsing random videos that they would find.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, Akko laid on Diana’s bed and stretched. Diana took the opportunity to give Akko a deep kiss as her hair hung around their faces like curtains. “You taste like green tea ice cream,” Akko remarked as they pulled apart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What a coincidence. So do you,” Diana replied with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was then that Akko suddenly realised something. “Did you bring ice cream just to make sure that we taste sweet and not like curry when we kiss?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana looked as though she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “Perhaps.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko could not help but laugh. “Well aren’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm</span>
  </em>
  <span> and calculating.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana kissed her neck. “Mm-hmm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko really didn’t want to stop her, but a conversation earlier in the day sprung into her mind. “Wait.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Akko?” Diana reluctantly pulled up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your bed squeaks. And apparently Hannah can hear it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana deliberated for a moment. “Yes, that is most unfortunate. Does it bother you that much?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Akko looked surprised. “It doesn’t bother you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It does to a certain extent. But it’s an acceptable sacrifice. Hannah wouldn’t learn anything that she didn’t already know,” Diana responded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not super bothered by it, but…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Diana’s mischievous glint in her eyes didn’t relent. “Akko, dear. We don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to use the bed.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>50%</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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